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THE TRUE STORY 



OF 






HAMLET AND OPHELIA 



BY 



/ 



FREDERICKS BEARDSLEY GILCHRIST 



" And let me speak to the yet unknowing world 
How these things came about: so shall you hear 
Of carnal, bloody, and unnatural acts, 
Of accidental judgements, casual slaughters, 
Of deaths put on by cunning arid forced cause, 
And, in this upshot, purposes mistook 
Fall'n on the inventors' heads : all this can I 
Truly deliver " 




BOSTON 

LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY 

1889 






Copyright, 1889 
By Little, Brown, and Company 



Presswork by 
John Wilson and Son, Cambridge 



THE TRUE STORY 

OF 

HAMLET AND OPHELIA 



i. 

It is possible to form a conception of an intelli- 
gent, intellectual, educated man to whom the Trag- 
edy of Hamlet is unknown, to whom the name Ham- 
let conveys no idea; and until a critic places himself 
in the condition of impartiality and lack of preju- 
dice in which this imaginary man would be, he is 
not perfectly fitted to judge of Shakespeare's greatest 
play. The conceptions and misconceptions imposed 
on him by actors and commentators must warp his 
judgment and control his understanding. 

It is asserted that Hamlet is a study for the closet, 
rather than a drama to be presented on the stage; 
and the authority for the assertion is the play itself, 
with its difficulties of stage interpretation. True it 
is, that our imaginary man, who had never heard of 
the Tragedy, would conclude that Booth's, or Bar- 
rett's, or Irving's, or Fechter's adaptation is not a 
coherent, self-explanatory dramatic work ; its pres- 
entation would seem to him only a series of scarcely 
connected tableaux vivants, with fragments of de- 
scriptive dialogue. But none of these adaptations, 



2 THE TRUE STORY OF 

nor any other, is Shakespeare's play. In every 
adaptation Shakespeare's text is wofully cut, and 
Shakespeare's meaning, in that which is retained, is 
wofully misrepresented in the acting. 

It will be conceded that a perfect dramatic work, 
while it may admit of and reward deep study, should 
not require it in order to be intelligible. It is not 
expected that an auditor will need to listen many 
times to the repetition of any play, before he can 
comprehend its meaning. Special passages are not 
repeated, and special metaphysical questions are not 
weighed, during the representation of a drama. The 
lines as spoken by the actors — spoken once — should 
be all that is required to acquaint a hearer with 
every thing it concerns him to know of the fortunes 
or misfortunes of the dramatis persona. It seems to 
me that in Shakespeare's Hamlet, properly inter- 
preted, this information is furnished to the audience ; 
but many years of misrepresentation have unfortu- 
nately overlaid the story with the actors' and com- 
mentators' veneer, and the student who now desires 
to make an impartial study of Hamlet, and to dis- 
cover what this information really is, must, as I said 
before, first place himself, so far as possible, in the 
condition of the imaginary man who has never 
heard of the play. He must discharge his mind of 
all ideas concerning it; he must be ready to believe 
that Shakespeare's text contains all the material 
needed to make the play intelligible, and he must 
seek for the meaning of the text, without consider- 
ing what this or that commentator thinks about it. 
At the same time he must remember that the play- 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 3 

goers of Shakespeare's day probably comprehended 
the drama perfectly ; for they possessed a help to its 
understanding which we have not — the actors who 
played it knew what Shakespeare meant them to 
portray. This the modern student must discover 
for himself, remembering always that the text, unless 
it has been hopelessly distorted, is subject to the 
same interpretation now as then. 

We have reason to believe that this play was un- 
derstood as well as loved by those who heard it 
during its author's lifetime and for many years 
after. Its publication at least four times before 
Shakespeare's death — four times in eight years — 
indicates that the tragedy was popular; and we 
know that it was republished, time after time, in es- 
sentially the same words in which it has come down 
to us. If these words, in the judgment of the play- 
goers of Shakespeare's day, had hopelessly involved 
the story, is it not probable that its author would 
have been appealed to, to make his meaning clear? 
Would not some edition contain explanatory altera- 
tions? No such edition has been discovered ; even 
the Folio of 1623, which leaves out of Hamlet many 
lines found in earlier editions, does not, in its few 
new passages, cast any light on the alleged obscuri- 
ties of the play. 

To make an intelligent, independent study of 
Hamlet now, there is needed, in addition to a mod- 
ern edition of Hamlet, copies of the First and Sec- 
ond Quartos, of the First Folio, and of The Hystorie 
of Hamblct ; these, I think, may be considered orig- 
inal documents. The Hamlet of to-day is not a 



4 THE TRUE STORY OF 

copy of any one of these originals, but is a combina- 
tion of them all. 

A few words about these earliest known editions 
may help the student who has not books of refer- 
ence at hand. It is not determined when the play 
was written, or when it was first acted. A play of 
Hamlet was acted on the ninth of June, 1594, by 
the company to which Shakespeare belonged, and 
that this was an old drama is judged from the small 
sum received for its performance; besides, there are 
several allusions in contemporary literature which 
fix the date of a play of Hamlet as precedent to 
1594. In 1602 there is entered in the Stationers' 
Registers : " A booke called the Revenge of Hamlett, 
etc. ; " but the earliest edition of our play of Hamlet 
that has been discovered was published in 1603. In 
this the arrangement of the scenes differs from the 
present order, and a scene — given in it — between 
the queen and Horatio, is omitted from the later 
editions. The characters are the same, but Polo- 
nius is called Corambis ; Laertes, Leartes ; and Rey- 
naldo, Montano. This edition is called by com- 
mentators the First Quarto, or Q. x But two 
copies of this edition have been discovered, the 
first not until 1823: this edition, therefore, was not 
known to the earlier commentators. The first copy 
found lacks the last page, and the second copy, dis- 
covered in 1856, lacks the title-page ; each, therefore, 
completes the other. The First Quarto bears the 
name of Shakespeare on the title-page, but opinions 
differ as to whether it is entirely his work, or a revis- 
ion by him of the older play existing before 1594. It 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 5 

is supposed that the publication of the First Quarto 
was not authorized, and it is thought possible that 
the lines were written out, by some actor, from 
memory. 

In 1604 a second version of Hamlet was pub- 
lished, .which is known as the Second Quarto, — Q., 
This purports to be " The Tragicall Historie of 
HAMLET, Prince of Denmarke, By William 
Shakespeare. Newly imprinted and enlarged to 
almost as much againe as it was, according to the 
true and perfect Coppie," and it is accepted by crit- 
ics as Shakespeare's work. Of this edition only 
three copies have been preserved. Furness says 
that the First Quarto contains only 2143 lines, and 
the Second Quarto about 3719. Hamlet was re- 
printed at least twice more during Shakespeare's 
lifetime ; and these editions do not differ, in any 
material point, from the edition of 1604. Reprints 
of all the early editions have been made, which are 
known as the Ashbee-Halliwell Reprints. 

The first edition of Shakespeare's collected plays 
was issued by Heminge and Condell, his friends and 
fellow-actors, in 1623, the seventh year after his 
death. The Hamlet in this edition is known as the' 
First Folio (F.,) Hamlet. It omits some passages 
found in the Quartos, and inserts others that they 
do not contain. It is from the First and the Sec- 
ond Quartos, and from the First Folio, that the 
modern Hamlet has been compiled ; these three — 
the First Quarto, the Second Quarto, and the First 
Folio — are the only early editions that are needed 
by a student who does not aim to be a critic, 



6 THE TRUE STORY OF 

and copies of these can be procured with little 
trouble. 

The Duke of Devonshire bought one of the copies 
of the First Quarto and one of the copies of the 
Second Quarto: these two Quartos were, in i860, 
reprinted with scrupulous exactness by Josiah Allen, 
Jr., under the supervision of Samuel Timmins. 
" The two texts [are] printed on opposite pages, 
and so arranged that the parallel passages face each 
other." This reprint is variously known as "The 
Devonshire Hamlets," " Timmins's Reprint," or 
" Allen's Reprint." 

From the First Folio several Reprints of Hamlet 
have been made. Among these are Stratmann's 
Reprint of Hamlet from the First Folio, collated 
with all the editions up to 1637 (in this, however, 
there are many errors) ; and Ludlow's Reprint. 

But I think there is still another authority that 
the impartial student must consult. He must exam- 
ine the raw material from part of which Shakespeare 
elaborated the play. 

The Hystorie of Hamblet is the story on which 
the play of Hamlet is founded. The first known 
English publication of the Hystorie was made in 
1608, four years after the publication of the Second 
Quarto. The story, derived, as is supposed, from an 
old Danish historian, Saxo Grammaticus, was earlier 
translated into French : this French translation 
appeared in 1570. For reasons that seem plausi- 
ble, Shakespearean scholars believe that the transla^ 
tion into English was not made until after the 
play of Hamlet appeared, but they go further than 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 7 

this, and say that Shakespeare never read the novel. 
If this were so, we should not need to consider its 
influence on the play. 

The Hamblet whom Belleforest, the French trans- 
lator, depicts in the Hystorie, was a youth not fully 
grown, who pretended to be mad in order to pre- 
serve his life until he should be old enough to kill 
the uncle who had murdered his father and 
debauched his mother, — until he should be old 
enough to justify his conduct to the Danes. This 
youth was patient, self-controlling, conscientious, 
absolutely truthful, faithful in friendship, intel- 
lectually active, and philosophical, but melancholy, 
believing in the supernatural to the extent of think- 
ing that the devil has power to inform mankind of 
things past. 

We readily perceive that these are the character- 
istics that Shakespeare's young prince displays, and 
we shall be forced to admit that Shakespeare took 
Hamblet exactly as he found him, and carried him 
from the sixth century to the seventeenth, modify- 
ing only the manifestations of his pretended mad- 
ness to make them pleasing to the age in which he 
placed him. We must also allow that he repre- 
sented all the other personages whom he took from 
the Hystorie exactly as they are represented there, — 
that is, as to their characters and possibilities of 
action. 

In the preface to Rienzi Bulwer says, " Nay, even 
in the more imaginative plays, which he [Shakes- 
peare] has founded on novels and legends popular 
in his time, it is curious and instructive to see how 



8 THE TRUE STORY OF 

little he has altered the original groundwork, — tak- 
ing for granted the main materials for the story, 
and reserving all his matchless resources of wisdom 
and invention to illustrate from mental analysis the 
creations whose outlines he was content to borrow. 
He receives as a literal fact, not to be altered, the 
somewhat incredible assertion of the novelist, that 
the pure and delicate and high-born Venetian loves 
the swarthy Moor, — and that Romeo, fresh from his 
woes for Rosaline, becomes suddenly enamoured of 
Juliet : he found the Improbable and employed his 
art to make it truthful." 

Shakespeare found the Improbable in the first 
chapters of the Hystorie of Hamblct, but what he 
found he seems to have preserved. All the charac- 
ters of the play, except Laertes and Fortinbras, are 
found in the old Hystorie, some only suggested, it is 
true; but, like a modern naturalist, who from a fossil 
bone or tooth can reconstruct an extinct animal, so 
Shakespeare, from a hint, a line, could re-create 
a character and divine all its thoughts and actions. 
Shakespeare took the old novel and preserved it as 
it was, except the end, which he reconstructed. 
He amplified the story and changed it from narra- 
tive to dialogue, and this is the reason so few of the 
literal expressions of the Hystorie are found in the 
play. This, however, is not a reason assigned by 
Shakespearean scholars, the majority of whom, while 
they admit that the play of Hamlet is founded on 
the Hystorie of Hamblet, assert that Shakespeare 
never saw the novel, but that his knowledge of the 
story came only from the old play, which they 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 9 

believe Shakespeare re-wrote and transmuted from 
base metal into gold. They think the Hystorie 
of very little importance, valuing it only because it 
furnished the motive for the first play. On this 
subject — the debt Shakespeare owes to the Hys- 
torie — Furness says, " the curious student with the 
Reprint [of the Hystorie'] at hand, can misspend 
what time he pleases, and make his own con- 
clusions." 

Whether Shakespeare was, or was not, familiar 
with the novel, it is admitted that on it the first 
play was founded ; if he did not get his material 
directly from the story, he got it at second-hand 
from the play : but why may he not have seen the 
French translation that appeared in 1570, or even 
an earlier translation into English from Saxo Gram- 
maticus? It appears that only one copy of the 
Hystorie of 1608 has been preserved. This was 
owned by Collier, who reprinted it in 1842 in the 
first volume of his Shakespeare's Library. No copy 
of an earlier edition has been discovered, but it is 
believed that others may have been published. 

Careful consideration must surely cause the stu- 
dent to feel that the influence of the Hystorie has 
been very much underrated ; for study and com- 
parison make it almost certain that Shakespeare had 
it before him, in some form, when he arranged the 
Quarto of 1604. 

Observe the genesis of one passage : In the Hys- 
torie, p. 308, we find these lines : 

Hamlet, while his father liued had been instructed in that 
deuilish art, whereby the wicked spirite abuseth mankind, and 



io THE TRUE STORY OF 

aduertiseth him (as he can) of things past. It toucheth not the 
matter herein to discouer the parts of deuination in man, and 
whether this prince, by reason of his ouer great melancholy, had 
received those impressions, etc. 

In the Quarto of 1603 the passage derived from 
these lines is : 

This fpirit that I haue feene may be the Diuell, 
And out of my weakeneffe and my melancholy, 
As he is very potent with fuch men, 
Doth feeke to damne me. 

In the Quarto of 1604 it is : 

The fpirit that I have feene 
May be a deale, and the deale hath power 
T'affume a pleafing fhape, yea, and perhaps, 
Out of my weakenes, and my melancholy, 
As he is very potent with fuch fpirits, 
Abufes me to damne me. 

The use of the word "abuses" — of which the 
French is abuser — in the Quarto of 1604, indicates 
either that Shakespeare had the Hystorie before him 
when he wrote, or that the older play, if there were 
one, presented the word in a paraphrase of this pas- 
sage. Probably the former was the case. A pas- 
sage that confirms this belief is found only in the 
Quarto of 1604; there is nothing corresponding to it 
in the earlier Quarto. The lines are these : 

let it worke, 
For tis the fport to haue the enginer 
♦Hoift with his owne petar, an't fhall goe hard 
But I will delue one yard belowe their mines, 
And blovve them at the Moone. 

The germ of this passage is on p. 305 of the Hys- 
torie, and in the same relative position as in the 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. n 

play, — namely, at the end of Hamlet's exhortation to 
his mother. It reads: 

I shall not dye, without reuenging my selfe vpon mine 
enemie, and that himselfe shall be the instrument of his owne 
decay, and to execute that which of my selfe I durst not haue 
enterprised. 

There are many other passages, several of which 
are designated later, that point directly to the Hys- 
torie as the source of the Quarto of 1604. Every sen- 
timent expressed by Hamblet to his mother in the 
Hystorie, Shakespeare has transferred to his Hamlet, 
although, in the play, not all of them are addressed 
to Gertrude. I believe that an acquaintance with 
the old Hystorie is a great and necessary aid to a 
thorough comprehension of the play (since it has 
been so obscured by commentators) ; and therefore 
I have inserted in this volume a reprint of the first 
English translation of the Hystorie of Hamblet. It 
is reprinted from Hazlitt's Shakespeare s Library, 
part 1, vol. ii. (1875). 

A student who has at hand this Hystorie of Ham- 
blet, and copies of the First and Second Quartos, and 
the First Folio, as well as a modern edition of Ham- 
let, is ready to follow intelligently the succeeding 
exposition of the play. The modern edition from 
which the quotations needed for it have been made 
is the Globe edition of the Cambridge Shakespeare, 
prepared by Wright and Clark. 



II. 

THE first words uttered by Hamlet after the ghost 
reveals the dreadful story of his mother's adultery 
with Claudius, and his father's murder by him 

O all you host of heaven ! O earth ! what else ? 
And shall I couple hell? — 

are not to be found in the Actor's Edition, and, in 
dramatic representation, they are usually altered or 
entirely omitted. The succeeding words — 

O, fie ! Hold, hold, my heart, 
And you, my sinews, grow not instant old, 
But bear me stiffly up — ■ 

are sometimes given, but not always. Actors cut 
this Second Soliloquy according to their individual 
fancy, omitting and retaining what they please. 

There must be some reason for this omission, 
other than the length of the drama. We should 
expect the whole of this soliloquy to be given, 
because the revelation of the ghost, and its influence 
on Hamlet afford the whole motive for his future 
conduct in the play. It would seem natural to 
expose to the audience, as clearly as possible, every 
operation of Hamlet's mind, immediately after he 
receives a command that, in its fulfillment, results 
in the immolation of all but one of the principal 
characters in the Tragedy. That this soliloquy is 

12 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 13 

omitted, or cut short, is an indication either that its 
importance is not appreciated, or that it contains 
inherent difficulties of presentation that an actor 
cannot overcome. I believe both reasons are 
operative in suppressing it, and that they both result 
from a mistake in punctuating the second line of the 
soliloquy, — 

O all you host of heaven ! O earth ! what else ? 
And shall I couple hell ? 

An actor could not, immediately after the revela- 
tion of the ghost, declaim these lines, as they stand, 
and present them to the ear, without exciting a 
sense of ridicule in his hearers. The anti-climax 
would be too marked to be endurable. 

What is the situation — to use a play-wright's word — 
when these lines are spoken ? They occur very 
near the beginning of the play. Hamlet has already 
been introduced to the audience, and is represented 
as indulging a deep grief at his father's death, his 
mother's fickleness (iiot her wickedness), and his own 
disappointed hopes, — for he had expected the elec- 
tion to the throne to light on him, instead of on 
his uncle Claudius. On this occasion, his second 
appearance in the play, he has so far controlled him- 
self in the solitary indulgence of his sorrow, that he 
has come at midnight to the outer platform of the 
castle, with two friends, expecting there to meet the 
dead king's ghost, which, they have told him, has 
already thrice appeared. The apparition comes 
again, and Hamlet recognizes the spirit as his 
father's and credits its almost incredible disclosure. 



i 4 THE TRUE STORY OF 

It is as the ghost vanishes, after making its horrible 
revelation, that these lines are spoken. 

We see Hamlet, on the fading of the ghost, 
paralyzed by the revelation of his uncle's and his 
mother's wickedness, overcome by grief and horror 
and disgust, and by the immensity of the task he 
is expected to perform. He can not realize how 
such a burden was imposed on him as duty. He 
feels that the foundations of the moral world are 
crumbling, and, reaching after something stable and 
unchangeable, he exclaims (as the present punctua- 
tion enjoins) : 

O all you host of heaven ! O earth ! what else ? 
And shall I couple hell ? O, fie ! 

This is not natural : who, in such a condition of 
mind, would call on heaven and earth, and stop to 
ask, or even think, 

And shall I couple hell ? 

It is too cold-blooded : we can not believe that Ham- 
let would pick his phrases at such a moment ; that 
he could invoke the hosts of heaven and earth, and 
stop to consider if he should also appeal to hell, or 
that he was so dainty in his speech that he exclaimed 
0,fie ! at the mere suggestion. This is not Hamlet's 
nature. The incongruity of the questions, — what 
else? And shall I couple hell? — just after the invoca- 
tion to heaven and earth, is shocking. It is not pos- 
sible that Hamlet could pause to select his form of 
aspiration, and critically cry, 0,fie! on the rejection 
of the suggestion to couple hell, when he was pos- 
sessed by so deep emotion as his succeeding words 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 15 

reveal. Players feel this, and if they retain the first 
two lines of this soliloquy they omit from them the 
words, — what else? and O, fie, and make And 
shall I couple hell? express, not a question only, but 
the conviction that hell too must be included in the 
invocation : — shall has the force of must. 

What seems to be the true interpretation of these 
lines suggested itself in the same hour when their 
incongruity was first noticed. As the play was 
afterward read and re-read, every speech and action 
so fitted into and agreed with this interpretation 
that the conclusion was unavoidable that the mis- 
take had been made by some modern editor, and 
continued without notice of the change, and there- 
fore without correction. Thinking this, I believed 
that the audiences before the Restoration had under- 
stood and loved the Tragedy because this interpre- 
tation, which I thought they then possessed, gave 
them the key to it; and I tried to shut out from my 
mind every explanation of the play that I had ever 
entertained, and to examine it by the help of this 
new light, as if it were a new creation. In this I 
succeeded beyond my expectations ; at each read- 
ing a new harmony developed itself, and I was con- 
firmed in my belief that an unnoticed misprint had 
created the mystery that envelops Hamlet. 

But when I went to the various editions, early and 
late, for proof of my conjecture, I found the error 
everywhere reproduced. The passage was the same, 
or varied very slightly, — an " Oh " for an " O," may 
be. Some few editions commented on the pas- 
sage, but not to elucidate it. Steevens thought the 



16 THE TRUE STORY OF 

words O, fie ! " might have been the marginal repre- 
hension of some scrupulous reader, to whom the 
MS. had been communicated before it found its way 
to the press." Reed said of 0, fie ! " These words 
(which hurt the measure, and from that circumstance 
and their almost ludicrous turn may be suspected 
as an interpolation) are found only in the two 
earliest quartos." He did not mean the Quarto 
of 1603 ; this was not then discovered. Dyce 
thought the words might be omitted, and Capell 
boldly thrust them out as " impertinent in the high- 
est degree." George MacDonald, noticing And 
shall I couple hell ? could only say, "He must! 
His father is there," and Marshall, in his Study of 
Hamlet, has this passage: 

On the Soliloquy " O all you host of heaven! " 

" This soliloquy is not a long one ; but it is a very 
important one. It is the key-note to that wild per- 
turbation of mind in which Hamlet remains during 
the rest of this act. The vehement aspiration with 
which it commences — 

O all you host of heaven ! O earth ! what else ? 
And shall I couple hell ? 

is succeeded by the expression — 

O, fie! 

which recalls to our memories the words in the 
former soliloquy — 

Fie on't ! ah fie ! 

Here the exclamation may be taken in two ways ; 
either as a self-rebuke for the mention of hell, or as 
a reproach directed against his own weakness on 
the part of Hamlet. I think the latter the best 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 17 

interpretation, especially if we consider the words 
which follow immediately: 

Hold, hold, my heart ; 
And you, my sinews, grow not instant old, 
But bear me stiffly up." 

I turned to the Folio of 1623 ; there the passage 
reads, 

Oh all you host of Heaven ! Oh Earth ; what els ? 
And shall I couple Hell ? Oh fie : hold my heart; 
And you my sinnewes, grow not instant Old ; 
But beare me stiffely up. 

In the Quarto of 1604 I found, 

O all you hoft of heauen, 6 earth, what els, 
And fhall I coupple hell, 6 fie, hold, hold my hart, 
And you my finnowes, growe not inftant old, 
But beare me fwiftly vp. 

and the Quarto of 1603 reads, 

O all you hofte of heauen ! O earth, what elfe ? 
And fhall I couple hell ; remember thee ? 

Nowhere did I find the reading I was searching for ; 
but I was not convinced that the present reading is 
the true one. The punctuation of the Folio was not 
done by Shakespeare, it differed from the Quartos, 
they differed from each other, and all from the 
modern punctuation: I believe all are incorrect. 
But the Quarto of 1604 was printed in Shakespeare's 
lifetime, " according to the true and perfect coppie " ; 
this Quarto does not impose any absolute interpre- 
tation of this passage on the reader ; commas, de- 
noting a pause, are the only stops employed : 



18 THE TRUE STORY OF 

O all you hoft of heauen, 6 earth, what els, 
And fhall I coupple hell, 6 fie, hold, hold my hart, 
And you my finnowes, growe not inftant old, 
But beare me fwiftely vp. 

It is possible that the proper punctuation was not 
understood by the compositor, who may have in- 
serted these commas, believing that the actor would 
substitute the needed stops ; but, while an actor 
might, and probably would, punctuate his own 
manuscript copy of his part, he would not make the 
correction in the printed stage copy, and thus, the 
later editions being printed one from another, the 
proper pointing may never have been adopted. 
This seems plausible, especially when we observe 
that in the First Quarto, in which, however, we do 
not find the apostrophe, 

O, fie ! Hold, hold, my heart ; 
And you, my sinews, grow not instant old, 
But bear me stiffly up — 

the punctuation is much more elaborate. In the 
modern editions the substitutions for the commas 
in the Second Quarto are as follows : 

O all you host of heaven ! O earth ! what else? 
And shall I couple hell? O, fie ! Hold, hold, my heart; 
And you, my sinews, grow not instant old, 
But bear me stiffly up. 

Let us punctuate once more ; let us alter the place 
of an interrogation point, and read : 

O all you host of heaven ! O earth ! what else ? 

And shall I couple? Hell! O, fie ! Hold, hold, my heart, 

And you, my sinews, grow not instant old, 

But bear me stiffly up. 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 19 

We know that no fault was more common than the 
interchange or omission of ? and ! ; and this I believe 
is what Shakespeare wrote. 

Hamlet has just been told that his father was 
murdered by the uncle who is now married to his 
mother, and the duty to avenge this murder has 
been imposed on him ; he has been told that his 
mother's seeming virtue is a sham, that her ap- 
parent love for his father was only a cover for her 
intrigue with Claudius, and from the terms of the 
disclosure he believes that Gertrude was also a party 
to her husband's murder. Murderess and Adul- 
teress, — these are the names by which he must 
henceforth designate his mother ! Prostrated, de- 
vastated by the disclosure, he exclaims, 

O all you host of heaven ! O earth ! what else ? 

What must I prepare for next ? Instead of won- 
dering whether he shall violate the proprieties, and 
"couple hell" with heaven and earth, he instinc- 
tively thinks of his love for Ophelia, and contem- 
plates it in the light of his father's revelation : the 
possible results of a marriage with her occur to him, 
and his instant repudiation of them and her, and of 
the idea of any marriage, is shown by the intolerant 
exclamations, 

And shall I couple ? Hell ! 

What else f does not mean, W r hat else can I 
invoke ? What else shall I unite with heaven and 
earth? What else can I turn to for aid? — but it is 
the broken-hearted cry of a young soul who finds 
himself bereft of father, of kingdom, and of his faith 



20 THE TRUE STORY OF 

in woman's love and virtue. What else can be taken 
from him ? From what quarter can a new blow be 
dealt him ? What else remains ? As a sequence to 
this thought comes the recollection of what had 
promised him a life of happiness. Ophelia's love — 
that still is his. But the revelation of the ghost has 
made him clear-sighted : he had already marveled 
at his mother's shortlived grief; before the dis- 
closure of her guilt he had reached the conclusion, 
'^Frailty, thy name is woman." Now he instantly 
measures Ophelia by her, he compares the two, and 
from his knowledge of Ophelia's character (he had 
.given private time to her) he conceives that she will 
be as pliant under temptation as his mother has 
been : she will be no crown of rubies to him : a 
marriage with her will be no true union. He asks 
the question full of derision, of loathing, and of in- 
dignation","] 

*" And shall I couple? 

and, answering it to his wounded heart, he rejects 
her then and there ; rejects her with an oath that 
shows his disgust at the possibilities his derisive 
word has suggested. By this renunciation Hamlet 
strips himself of all that makes youth lovely and 
life desirable; he pulls down upon himself the temple 
of his love, and he staggers as he stands amid the 
ruins. We know what his thoughts are, and our 
hearts ache in sympathy with his, as he contem- 
plates the barrenness of his future life. Gradually 
he recovers himself, and slowly says : " O fie ! " [Fie 
upon this weakness.] 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 21 

Hold, hold, my heart, 

And you, my sinews, grow not instant old, 

But bear me stiffly up. 

Does not this reading, without any alteration of 
the text, cast a new light on Hamlet's character, 
and on all the conduct of the play? Does not the 
whole play become explicable the moment we put 
the interrogation point after the word couple f By 
the interpretation that this change allows, I hope 
to show that all Hamlet's words and actions 
before this question (demonstrations which we do 
not see, but which we know were made) are con- 
sistent with his love, all after it consistent with his 
repudiation of Ophelia : from this moment we think 
of Hamlet as an unhappy lover, and Ophelia's rela- 
tion to him is made much more prominent and 
beautiful. By this interpretation, the play becomes 
the subject of practicable, interesting study and 
analysis, the words and acts of the principal charac- 
ters fall into a harmony, most of the obscure pas- 
sages can be illuminated, and the whole scheme, 
plot, and progress of the play becfome more inter- 
esting. By this interpretation the necessity for 
believing Hamlet insane is removed; it is made to 
appear that he did fulfill his father's command with- 
out unnecessary delay, and his discrimination of char- 
acter is marvelously exhibited. 

I feel sure, however, that Shakespearean students 
will not at once be willing to accept it ; they do not 
yet realize how absolutely essential it is. The reader, 
who can review and study the different scenes of 
the Tragedy, may, even without this interpretation, 



22 THE TRUE STORY OF 

by piecing them together, construct the story, but 
without understanding every part, for each reader 
conceives a different interpretation for certain pas- 
sages. But the auditor, who sees the drama on 
the stage and is hurried along with its rapidly 
changing action, must, thus early in the play, hear 
this explicit expression of Hamlet's intention to 
renounce Ophelia, in order to enable him to appre- 
hend the object of Hamlet's represented and re- 
ported actions in the succeeding scenes ; without this 
expression, he could not divine it. The proof of 
this is that they are not understood now by either 
readers or hearers. 

A play-goer who has not read the play carefully 
does not and can not understand it as it is now 
presented on the stage ; from one hearing he could 
not even get a coherent idea of the story. Hamlet's 
visit to Ophelia's closet, his conversation with 
Polonius, his letter to Ophelia, seem utterly without 
motive until the third act, when he finally repudiates 
the maiden ; up to that time and beyond, they seem 
only the manifestations of Hamlet's madness, 
arising from no special cause, and having no special 
fitness of application. 

The play is not understood by readers and care- 
ful students even. Think how widely their inter- 
pretations differ. They can not all be right, but 
each one would contend that Shakespeare intended 
to represent the special things that his interpreta- 
tion makes possible. Shakespeare could have meant 
to present only one story ; it was not meant to 
change with the varying points of view from which 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 23 

different students considered it. I think that the 
interpretation I suggest for — 

And shall I couple ? Hell ! — 

if it be presented on the stage, or considered in the 
study, furnishes the one key that unlocks every 
difficulty in the play, and I hope that even ripe 
scholars will be tolerant until they have examined 
the whole play with reference to it. It may be 
more difficult for them to come to a judgment than 
for a mind ignorant of Shakespearean criticism, for 
they will first have to set aside their already ac- 
cepted interpretations. 

It may be objected that, after all, the interpreta- 
tion I suggest must be proved from the play, and 
that it only adds another to the many theories 
that have already been advanced. To this I reply — 
with modesty, and an ardent desire to be proven in 
the wrong if I be wrong — that it seems to me the 
theory I advance destroys all other theories ; it 
furnishes the one and only coherent, comprehensi- 
ble, provable explication of the Tragedy of Hamlet. 
For nearly three hundred years it has been possible 
to misunderstand, not special passages only, but the 
fundamental intention of the play ; during that 
time no satisfactory explanation of all its obscuri- 
ties has been advanced. I believe this theory 
explains them; and this belief, based on careful 
study and comparison, ought to excuse the seeming 
vanity and presumption of the preceding state- 
ment. Therefore with the assumption that Shake- 
speare wrote, 

And shall I couple ? 



24 HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 

I intend now to review the progress of the play. 
As a preliminary step I shall arrange a synopsis of 
the tragedy which will indicate the time at which 
each thing was done or said, in its proper relation 
to the time each other thing was done or said. 
Much of the confusion of our ideas has resulted from 
a confusion of time. The Folio of 1623 does not 
divide the whole play into acts : the beginning 
of the first act, of course, is plain, and the beginning 
of the second act is placed, in the Folio, where w r e 
still place it. This division is correct as far as it 
goes, but in the Folio there is no further discrimin- 
ation of the acts. I do not know any edition that 
is correctly divided throughout, although what 
should be the division is appreciated by various 
Shakespearean scholars, and Marshall indicates 
pretty nearly the proper scheme of time; but the 
usual arrangement of acts and scenes has been 
productive of a great deal of misunderstanding. 
To investigate the play properly we must fix in our 
minds a correct scheme of the time occupied in each 
scene, and its relation, in closeness or distance, to 
all that precedes and all that follows it. 



III. 

Six months is the space of time covered by the 
T?'agedy of Hamlet. This includes the time from 
the murder of the elder Hamlet to the final clearing 
of the stage. This period of six months is divided 
into three periods of about two months each : the 
first period includes the time from the king's murder 
through the night on which his spirit reveals itself 
to Hamlet ; the second period includes the time 
that elapses between the revelation of the ghost 
and the hour of Hamlet's departure from Denmark; 
and the third period includes the time from Ham- 
let's departure from Denmark to the end of the 
play. 

The occurrences of only the last two days of each 
of these periods are presented on the stage, i.e., six 
days in all. Into six days is crowded the portrayal 
of Claudius's perfidy, Hamlet's misery, and Ophelia's 
madness. Six days present to us Hamlet receiving 
the command of his father's spirit, Hamlet deter- 
mining that the command is binding, and Hamlet 
gladly yielding up his life after performing every 
particular of the ghost's behest. To make this evi- 
dent, we must examine the sequence of the scenes, 
and the time occupied in their representation. 

The action is represented as taking place in Den- 
mark; but Shakespeare, from whatever source he re- 

25 



26 THE TRUE STORY OF 

ceived the suggestions for his plays, transplanted 
them to England, and adapted them to English sur- 
roundings, conforming them to the customs of the 
time in which he lived. It is winter when the play 
opens, probably December: 

'Tis bitter cold.— I. i. 8. 

The air bites shrewdly : it is very cold. — I. iv. i. 

It is barely two months since the king was killed 
while sleeping in his orchard, where he hardly would 
have taken his siesta, had the month been later than 
October. 

Marcellus seems to fix the time of the opening of 
the play as very near Christmas: 

Some say that ever 'gainst that season comes 
Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated, 
The bird of dawning singeth all night long : 
And then, they say, no spirit dares stir abroad ; 
The nights are wholesome ; then no planets strike, 
No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm, 
So hallow'd and so gracious is the time. — I. i. 158. 

This seems to suggest itself to his mind as an ex- 
planation for their escaping injury from this " extrav- 
agant and erring spirit "; the spell of the season 
may have been upon it. 

The play ends in the spring — the last of April or 
the first of May. This is indicated by the flowers 
that Ophelia distributes, and those of which she 
makes her fantastic garlands (IV. v. 175 ; IV. viii. 
169), daisies, pansies, columbine, crow-flowers, nettles, 
and long-purples. All these are flowers of early 
summer, and in England, where the seasons are 
more forward than with us, they bloom in April and 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 27 

in May. Ophelia gathers them the day before the 
last day of the play. 

The time of the opening scene is at the end of 
the First Period of two months. The whole of 
this period does not appear in representation ; part 
of it appears in narration only. The address of 
Claudius (I. ii. 1) informs us of the death of the 
late king, and his marriage with his widow, and 
Hamlet's First Soliloquy (I. ii. 129) shows us that 
his father has been dead about two months : 

But two months dead : nay, not so much, not two : 

and also that within a month of his father's death 
his mother has married again : 

within a month — 

. . . or ere those shoes were old 
With which she follow'd my poor father's body, 
Like Niobe, all tears : — why she, even she — 

. . . married with my uncle. 

This soliloquy fixes the time of the opening scene 
as at the end of the first period of two months. The 
occurrences of only the last two days of this period 
are represented in the play. 

Scene I. Act I. The first scene occupies the 
time from midnight until daybreak : 

Ber. 'Tis now struck twelve ; get thee to bed, Francisco. — I. i. 7. 
Hor. But, look, the morn, in russet mantle clad, 

Walks o'er the dew of yon high eastward hill. — I. i. 166. 

In it the ghost for the third time appears to the 
watch, who agree that they must tell Hamlet of the 
circumstance. 



28 THE TRUE STORY OF 

Scene II. Act I. The second scene opens in 
the morning, some hours later : 

Mar. I this morning know 

Where we shall find him most conveniently. — I. i. 174. 

Claudius, in a room of state in the royal castle, 
addresses his courtiers, dispatches ambassadors to 
Norway, gives Laertes leave to return to France, 
and reproaches Hamlet for the continued exhibition 
of his grief at his father's death. Hamlet consents 
to remain in Elsinore, and, by his First Soliloquy, 
informs us of his unhappiness, and of his disgust at 
his mother's inconstancy. He is interrupted by 
Horatio and the sentinels, who tell him their story, 
and he decides to watch that night himself. 

Scene III. Act I. Scene III. is subsequent to 
the preceding, but on the same day. In it Ophelia 
is introduced. Laertes, in bidding her farewell, 
cautions her most earnestly to guard her honor : 
Polonius enters, and, after Laertes' departure, he 
repeats his son's caution, showing great fear that 
his daughter may not preserve her virtue. That 
Scene III. is on the same day as the preceding one 
is shown by Scene IV., which follows it, and which 
represents Hamlet carrying out his determination : 

I will watch to-night. — I. ii. 242. 

SCENE IV. ACT I. Scene IV., on the platform 
outside the castle, takes place at midnight of the 
day we have been considering, just twenty-four 
hours after the opening of the play: 

Hor. I think it lacks of twelve. 
Ham. No, it is struck. — I. iv. 3. 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 29 

In this scene Hamlet is waiting with his friends 
for the ghost, who enters almost immediately after 
twelve. The ghost beckons Hamlet, who leaves the 
platform with it. 

Scene V. Act I. Scene V., on another part of 
the platform, opens a few minutes later, and the 
action continues until dawn. 

Ghost. The glow-worm shows the matin to be near. — I. v. 89. 

In this scene Hamlet is told by the ghost, that 
his father was murdered by his uncle, and that 
his mother was false to her husband during his life- 
time. He is commanded to revenge his father and 
remove Claudius from " the royal bed." He accepts 
the obligation, and, in consequence of the revela- 
tion of his mother's adultery, determines that he 
will not marry, expressing this in the words of the 
Second Soliloquy : 

And shall I couple ? Hell ! 

His friends come to seek him, and he swears them 
to secrecy as to what they have seen and heard, and 
as to the cause for his conduct should he at any 
future time " see fit to put an antic disposition on." 

This closes the first act, at daybreak of the sec- 
ond day. The time consumed in this act is part of 
two days — from midnight of the first day to dawn 
of the second day, and from morning of the second 
day to dawn again. These two days end the First 
Period of about two months. 

The Second Period of about two months passes, 
with the exception of the last two days, before we 
again see any of the characters of the play. That 



3o THE TRUE STORY OF 

about two months elapse is deduced from a passage 
in Act III., Scene II. Hamlet says, during the 
mock-play : 

What should a man do but be merry? for, look you, how 
cheerfully my mother looks, and my father died within these 
two hours. — III. ii. 131. 

Ophelia replies — 

Nay, 'tis twice two months, my lord. 

We have already seen, in Act I., that the elder 
Hamlet had then been dead about two months. 
Two months therefore intervene between the first 
act and the mock-play, and the mock-play (as will 
appear) takes place the next night after the second 
act opens. All the action of Act II. is continuous, 
though not all of it occurs in one place. 

SCENE I. ACT II. The opening scene of the 
second act represents a room in Polonius's house. 
The time is probably early morning. I think this 
because Polonius would naturally start off a post to 
his son, who has been two months in France, early 
in the day: this he does on the opening of the sec- 
ond act. As Reynaldo, the messenger, departs, 
Ophelia enters and tells her father that Hamlet, in 
a very perturbed state of mind, and disheveled con- 
dition of apparel, has just entered and left her 
chamber. I think this also indicates early morning. 
'vAfter a sleepless night, without arranging the disor- 
der of his clothing, Hamlet rushes into Ophelia's 
presence, hoping to decide by sight of her whether 
he is right in doubting her ability to resist tempta- 
tion. The decision is given against her, and he 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 31 

leaves her as abruptly as he came. Ophelia hastens 
to tell her father of the occurrence, and Polonius, 
concluding that Hamlet is mad for Ophelia's love, 
determines to go at once to the king to tell him 
that this is the cause of the change in Hamlet's 
bearing. He sets out for the castle, and while he is 
going thither we are shown — 

SCENE II. Act II. This represents a room in the 
castle. The action is continuous with the preced- 
ing. The king and queen receive Rosencrantz and 
Guildenstern, for whom they have sent, hoping their 
society may prove beneficial to Hamlet, who is 
overcome with melancholy. (Recollect that Hamlet 
has been sad since his father's death, and that the 
revelation of the ghost, while it gave him ground to 
hope for a change in his situation, has given him ad- 
ditional cause for grief. It has constrained him to 
doubt his mother and Ophelia. He has been un- 
able to convince himself that the story of the ghost 
is true, and, from its enormity, he fears that the 
apparition was the devil, inciting him to commit 
murder.) Polonius arrives from his house, as these 
gentlemen are leaving the royal presence, — they are 
going to find Hamlet. Polonius announces that the 
ambassadors to Norway who had been dispatched 
two months before (I. ii. 33) have returned, and he 
also informs the king that he has found the cause 
of Hamlet's madness. He brings in the ambassa- 
dors, who make their report, and then assures the 
king and queen that Hamlet is mad for Ophelia's 
love, and reads them the letter the prince has written 
to her. He suggests that a meeting of Hamlet and 



32 THE TRUE STORY OF 

Ophelia be contrived, at which the king and he 
shall be present unseen ; this is assented to. He 
sees Hamlet approaching and begs to be left alone 
with him, designing to discover more of his mad- 
ness. Hamlet sees Polonius's belief, and, falling in 
with the idea, feigns madness, and, under the license 
it would give, tells Polonius to watch his daughter, 
saying, " conception is a blessing ; but not as your 
daughter may conceive. Friend, look to't." This 
conversation is interrupted by the entrance of Ros- 
encrantz and Guildenstern. Hamlet exhibits sad- 
ness but no insanity in his talk with them, and they 
tell him the players are coming to Elsinore. Polo- 
nius, who left the room when these two friends 
entered it, returns to tell Hamlet the same thing, 
and Hamlet ridicules and abuses him, confirming 
Polonius's belief that he is mad. The players enter. 
Hamlet receives them cordially and requires one of 
them to repeat a speech that he had before heard 
him declaim. This speech suggests to Hamlet a 
means to discover whether the ghost was really his 
father's spirit or only an emissary of the devil ; he 
decides to have a play presented the next night. 

We'll ha't to-morrow night. — II. ii. 565. 

in which some inserted lines shall tent his uncle to 
the quick, if he be guilty, and so confirm the story of 
the ghost. When Polonius and the players, and Ros- 
encrantz and Guildenstern, leave Hamlet he utters 
the Third Soliloquy, in which he blames himself for 
delaying to act on the ghost's injunction, but justi- 
fies himself to the audience, by the expression of 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 33 

his fear that the spirit he has seen may be the devil, 
who abuses him to damn him. The second act closes 
with the expression of Hamlet's determination to 
have proof, by the mock-play, of his uncle's guilt or 
innocence. 

All these — the dispatching Reynaldo ; Ophelia's 
story to her father ; the reception, first of Rosencrantz 
and Guildenstern, and then of the ambassadors on 
their return from Norway; Polonius's story to the 
king and queen ; his interview with Hamlet ; the 
conversation of Hamlet with Rosencrantz and Guil- 
denstern ; the second chaffing of Polonius ; the 
entrance and exit of the players ; and Hamlet's 
Third Soliloquy — are represented as succeeding one 
another during one day, the first day of the second 
period. The two scenes of the second act are filled 
with only one day's happenings. 

Act III. represents the occurrences of the second 
day and night of the second period. In Act III. 
most of what is now called Act IV. should be inclu- 
ded : the action is continuous from the beginning 
of Act III. to the end of the fourth scene of Act IV. 
Everything represented in the third act, and in the 
first four scenes of the fourth act, took place within 
the space of twenty-four hours. If the division into 
acts and scenes were made correctly, Act IV. would 
begin with the fifth scene of the fourth act. 

SCENE I. ACT III. The first scene of the third 
act opens upon a room in the castle. Rosencrantz 
and Guildenstern make their first report to their 
employers ; they can not discover why Hamlet has 
so entirely changed his bearing, and while they re- 



34 THE TRUE STORY OF 

port that he received them "most like a gentleman," 

they assume that he is mad. They tell the king 

that the players 

have already order 
This night to play before him. — III. i. 20: 

This speech fixes the time of the third act. Ham- 
let has said, 

We'll ha't to-morrow night. — II. ii. 565. 
and now we see that the order is for " to-night," — 
evidently this is the succeeding day to the one in 
which Hamlet gives the direction. Rosencrantz 
and Guildenstern leave the royal presence as soon 
as they have made their report, and the king asks 
Gertrude also to withdraw : he tells her he has sent 
for Hamlet, who, when he comes, shall find only 
Ophelia, since he intends, with Polonius, to hide be- 
hind the arras and witness their encounter. (This, 
remember, is on the day after Hamlet had broken 
into Ophelia's presence, and on the same day as 
the mock-play in which he finally separates himself 
from her.) The king and Polonius, leaving Ophe- 
lia in the apartment, hide as Hamlet enters, and he, 
not at first observing the maid, exposes the subject 
of his thoughts to the hidden king, in the Fourth 
Soliloquy, To be, or not to be. When he perceives 
Ophelia, forgetting for a moment his decision that 
she will not be faithful if tempted, he addresses her 
kindly, but soon becomes very bitter, deriding her 
for wishing to marry, and telling her instead to go 
to a nunnery. When he leaves her she is doubly 
convinced that he is mad. The king and Polonius 
re-enter, and Claudius, alarmed by the soliloquy, and 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 35 

by the threat against himself that he had overheard, 
resolves to send Hamlet at once to England, 
and so tells Polonius, who assents to Claudius's de- 
cision, but still insists that the beginning of Ham- 
let's madness sprang from neglected love. He 
therefore suggests that, after the play, the queen 
shall summon Hamlet to her closet, and question 
him as to the cause of his unhappiness ; he proposes 
to hide behind the arras there, and, overhearing 
their conversation, report it to the king. To this 
the king agrees. 

SCENE II. Act III. represents a hall in the cas- 
tle, on the evening of the day we have just spoken 
of. Hamlet is giving the players instructions how 
to speak the speech he wishes them to insert in the 
mock-play ; as the players go out, Rosencrantz and 
Guildenstern enter with Polonius, and tell Hamlet 
that the king and queen will hear the play at once. 
He sends them all to hasten the preparations of the 
players, and thus secures an opportunity to speak 
to Horatio alone. He desires Horatio-, whom he 
had formerly told of the ghost's revelation, to watch 
the king closely during the mock-play, and observe 
whether any part shall make him blench. The 
king and queen, Ophelia, Polonius, Rosencrantz 
and Guildenstern, and the court, come in, and the 
play begins, Hamlet indicating to the audience his 
contemptuous, estimation of Ophelia by his disgust- 
ing conversation with her before and during its rep- 
resentation. Claudius, self-convicted by his agita- 
tion during the play, leaves the hall with all but 
Hamlet and Horatio. Hamlet exhibits his nervous 



36 THE TRUE STORY OF 

joy at the success of his detective scheme, and de- 
cides that the ghost is really his father's spirit, and 
that, as he can believe its story, he is now free to 
accomplish its behest. While he is speaking, Ros- 
encrantz and Guildenstern enter, and Hamlet breaks 
off his conversation with Horatio by calling for 
some music ; this he does as they come in, for the 
purpose of misleading them as to the subject of his 
conversation with his friend. They have come to 
tell him that his mother desires to see him at once. 
Hamlet's answers are ambiguous and ironical, but 
at last he clearly indicates to Rosencrantz and 
Guildenstern his contempt for them, and his knowl- 
edge that they are the creatures of the king who 
spy upon him. Polonius interrupts them, bringing 
the same message from the queen that the two 
spies have already delivered, and Hamlet experi- 
ments with him to discover to what degree he is 
considered mad. A short soliloquy at the end of 
this scene shovs He inlet, convinced that the ghost 
had spoken sooth, ready to kill his uncle, and re- 
straining himself from the temptation to kill his 
mother. 

SCENE III. Act III. represents a room in the 
castle shortly after the mock-play. Rosencrantz 
and Guildenstern have returned to the king after 
having given Hamlet his mother's message, and 
Claudius, in their short absence having determined 
to send Hamlet at once to England, tells them of his 
decision, and instructs them that they shall go along 
with him. They retire to make hasty preparations 
for their voyage, and Polonius, entering, tells 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 37 

Claudius that Hamlet is going to his mother's 
closet, and then departs to take his station be- 
hind the arras. The king, left alone, exhibits to 
the audience, by a soliloquy, the effect the mock- 
play has produced upon him ; his conscience is 
awakened, and he retires a little and attempts to 
pray. Hamlet enters, and, seeing Claudius on his 
knees, unconscious of his presence, rushes forward 
to kill him ; but, for what seems to him a satisfactory 
reason, he refrains from doing so, and goes to his 
mother, who is awaiting him. 

Scene IV. Act III. discloses Gertrude and Po- 
lonius in conversation in Gertrude's closet, or ora- 
tory, to which Hamlet is coming. Polonius with- 
draws as Hamlet enters. Hamlet has come to the 
interview believing the story of the ghost, and anx- 
ious to accomplish the injunction, 

Let not the royal bed of Denmark be 
A couch for luxury and damned incest. 

He speaks harshly to his mother, and restrains her 
when she would go and call the king ; she cries 
for help, and Polonius echoes her from behind the 
hangings. Hamlet, believing the cry comes from 
the king, runs his sword through the arras and kills 
Polonius. But little disturbed by this death, being 
engrossed in the duty he must perform, Hamlet 
so converses with his mother — who does not yet 
believe him mad — that her conscience is awakened, 
and Hamlet has reason to hope that he can accom- 
plish the most difficult part of his father's obliga- 
tion. While he is reviling his uncle the ghost enters 
the queen's apartment and addresses Hamlet, who 



38 THE TRUE STORY OF 

answers him, but the ghost's voice is not audible 
to Gertrude. She asks Hamlet to whom he speaks, 
and his replies convince her that her son is mad. 
This opinion he disproves, and induces his mother 
to promise that she will conceal from Claudius that 
he is not really insane, but " only mad in craft." 
This promise, and the silence with which she re- 
ceives Hamlet's exhortations, show us that he is on 
the high road to the fulfillment of his vow ; he is de- 
taching his mother's love from Claudius, and, when 
this is accomplished, killing him will be easy. Ham- 
let and his mother both . leave the stage, Hamlet 
dragging the dead body of Polonius with him. The 
queen goes straight to the king ; their interview is 
shown in the scene that by the present arrange- 
ment is considered the first scene of the fourth act. 
It is very improper to begin a new act here ; the 
occurrences of this night should all be included in 
the third act, and the fourth act should not begin 
until what is now represented as the fifth scene of 
the fourth act. 

SCENE I. Act IV. (which should be Scene V. 
Act III.) represents Gertrude telling Claudius that 
Hamlet, in an attack of frenzy, has killed Polonius, 
whose body he is now drawing aside. She had 
promised to conceal. the fact of Hamlet's sanity from 
the king, and she now asserts that he is mad. Clau- 
dius calls Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, and dis- 
patches them to look for Hamlet, and then, with 
Gertrude, leaves the scene, going to call up some of 
their wise counselors and advise with them what 
is now best to do. 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 39 

SCENE II. Act IV. (which should be Scene VI. 
Act III.) represents another room in the castle. 
Hamlet enters, followed by Rosencrantz and Guil- 
denstern, who have found him, but who can not dis- 
cover from him where he has left Polonius's body. 
The three go together to the king. 

Scene III. Act. IV. (which should be Scene VII. 
Act III.) exhibits their entrance to the king's pres- 
ence. Hamlet indicates to Claudius where he has 
left the dead councilor, and Claudius tells him he 
— Hamlet — must at once depart to England to pro- 
tect himself from the consequences of this murder, 
but, on Hamlet's exit, Claudius reveals that he has 
sent to England, with Hamlet, a command for his 
instant death. 

Scene IV. Act. IV. (which should be Scene VIII. 
Act. III.) shows Hamlet and Rosencrantz and Guild- 
enstern, in the early morning, after the night we 
have been considering, going to the ship which is to 
bear them away from Denmark. That this is the 
time is shown by Claudius's words: 

The sun no sooner shall the mountains touch, 
But we will ship him hence. — IV. i. 29. 
and, 

I'll have him hence to-night. — IV. iii. 58. 

They meet Fortinbras and his soldiers, who are 
marching across Denmark toward Poland, and Ham- 
let questions them as to their destination, and, in his 
Sixth Soliloquy, compares the activity of Fortin- 
bras with his own inaction. This soliloquy, as the 
play is now divided, closes the fourth scene of the 
fourth act ; it should close the third act. This early 



4 o THE TRUE STORY OF 

morning scene completes the representation of the 
happenings of the second day of the Second Period. 
In this second day Rosencrantz and Guildenstern 
have made their first report ; Hamlet has encoun- 
tered Ophelia and reviled her, and by his soliloquy 
has alarmed the king ; he has instructed the players 
how to speak the speech which was to unkennel his 
uncle's guilt ; the mock-play has been presented, and 
Claudius, by his agitation, has confirmed the ghost's 
story, and afterward he has determined to send 
Hamlet at once to England ; Hamlet has awakened 
his mother's consciousness of guilt ; has killed Polo- 
nius, believing him to be the king ; and has been dis- 
patched from Denmark. The two days which we 
have just considered close the Second Period of about 
two months. At their ending we find Hamlet con- 
vinced that the story of the ghost is true, and already 
endeavoring to accomplish its commands. He has 
made some progress in separating his mother from 
his uncle, and the remonstrance he has directed to- 
ward her continues to prick her conscience and 
carry on the good work. The interruption of his 
departure from Denmark postpones further effort in 
this direction, but does not compel him to abandon 
it, or his design ultimately to kill the king. The last 
words of the Sixth Soliloquy assert this. 

The Third Period of about two months passes, 
with the exception of the last two days, before we 
again see any of the characters of the play. It is 
impossible to prove this by quotation, — the proof is 
inferential only. Laertes, for whom Ophelia prob- 
ably sent as soon as her father was killed, has re- 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 41 

turned secretly to Elsinore ; — the journey to France 
and back must have consumed about two months. 
The ambassadors from England, who come to tell 
the king that Rosencrantz and Guildenstern have 
been executed, in compliance with his supposed 
command, arrive during the last scene. The voyage 
to England and back must have consumed about 
two months ; — the voyage of the ambassadors to 
Norway and back had consumed fully two. For- 
tinbras's expedition against Poland, from which he 
returns at the end of the play, must have occupied 
considerable time. The only direct testimony that 
the text gives is in Claudius's words to Laertes about 
Lamond — the Norman : 

Two months since, 
Here was a gentleman of Normandy. — IV. vii. 82. 

We know from this speech that Hamlet was in 
Elsinore with Lamond two months before this con- 
versation, but we do not know that he remained 
there any length of time after Lamond's arrival ; 
he may have been dispatched at once to England. 

Hamlet returns to Denmark on the first day of 
the Third Period, and is killed on the second day ; 
during his absence from Denmark he had been most 
of the time in the hands of the pirates. The first 
thing presented to us, on the first day of the Third 
Period, is Ophelia's madness ; this first day should 
begin Act IV., but it is now considered : 

SCENE V. Act IV. This scene opens in a room in 
the castle. Horatio and an attendant gentleman per- 
suade the queen to admit Ophelia. She enters, and, 
by her songs, indicates that grief at her father's death 



42 THE TRUE STORY OF 

and disappointed love for Hamlet have dethroned 
her reason. When she departs, followed by Horatio, 
Claudius, who has come in, enumerates his causes 
for unhappiness. He is interrupted by the entrance 
of a gentleman, who warns him that Laertes is 
approaching the apartment at the head of a mob. 
Laertes enters and arraigns the king for his father's 
death, and the disrespect shown him in his obscure 
funeral. He is interrupted by the re-appearance of 
Ophelia, who makes evident to her brother her loss 
of reason. On her departure Claudius and Laertes 
retire, while the king tells the latter the circum- 
stances of Polonius's death. 

SCENE VI. Act IV. (which should be Scene II. Act 
IV.) discloses sailors who bring letters from Ham- 
let to Horatio, telling him the prince has returned 
to Denmark, and how he accomplished his return ; 
they also have letters to the king and queen. 
These they deliver to an attendant, and then lead 
Horatio to the place where Hamlet awaits his 
coming. 

Scene VII. Act IV. (which should be Scene III. 
Act IV.) discovers Claudius and Laertes in another 
room of the castle, continuing the conversation, in 
which — out of our sight and hearing — the king tells 
Laertes how Hamlet had killed Polonius. The 
messenger brings in the letters from Hamlet, which 
surprise and alarm the king, as they tell him the 
prince has returned alone to Denmark. He conceives 
a plan and unfolds it to Laertes, by which Hamlet 
shall be slain in a fencing match, by seeming acci- 
dent. Laertes agrees to do his part — to stab Ham- 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 43 

let with an unbated foil which shall be poisoned — 
and Claudius adds that he will prepare a poisoned 
drink which Hamlet shall quaff. Their conspiracy 
is shortened by the entrance of the queen, who tells 
Laertes that Ophelia has just been drowned. This 
catastrophe is the last of the occurrences of this day. 
The action from Scene V. Act IV. to the end of the 
act is continuous, and all takes place on the first 
day of the Third Period. On this day the queen 
receives Ophelia; Laertes breaks into the castle and 
assails the king ; Ophelia again enters, and thus 
acquaints her brother with her loss of reason 
Horatio and the king receive letters from Hamlet 
Claudius and Laertes concoct a plot to kill him 
and Gertrude tells them of Ophelia's death by 
drownincr 

o 

The second day of the Third Period, and the last 
day of the play, is the time occupied by Act V. Its 
two scenes occur on the same day, and this day is 
the day after Ophelia's death and Hamlet's return 
to Denmark. This appears from Claudius's appeal 
to Laertes at Ophelia's grave : 

Strengthen your patience in our last night's speech ; 
We'll put the matter to the present push. — V. i. 317. 

and from Hamlet's letter to the king: 

To-morrow shall I beg leave to see your kingly eyes.— IV. vii. 45. 

Scene I. Act V. It is now " to-morrow." Ham- 
let, occupied with thoughts of the king's death, walks 
with Horatio in the churchyard, and is there sur- 
prised by the entrance of the court, who follow 
some corse that did fordo its own life. Hamlet 



44 THE TRUE STORY OF 

and Horatio retire behind the tombs to wait until 
the funeral be over, but Laertes's words disclose to 
Hamlet that Ophelia is dead. His grief then com- 
pels him to discover himself, but, after a brief con- 
tention with Laertes, he regains his self-control and 
at once withdraws, followed by Horatio. Claudius 
entreats Laertes to be patient, reminding him of 
the plan by which they mean to secure " an hour 
of quiet." 

Scene II. Act V. represents a hall in the castle. 
Hamlet, meaning to kill Claudius, has gone thither, 
with Horatio, from the churchyard. On the way he 
has told his friend all the particulars of the ghost's 
revelation, and has explained why he repulsed the 
maid he loved so dearly; he has recalled to Horatio 
the mock-play, the killing of Polonius, and his ex- 
trusion from Denmark, and Horatio has told him all 
he knows about Ophelia. We now hear Hamlet 
telling his friend how he discovered his uncle's 
treachery, and how, changing their commission, he 
sent Rosencrantz and Guildenstern to England to 
their death, and returned to Denmark himself in the 
pirate ship with proof of Claudius's design against 
him. He contends that he is morally justified in 
killing the king, and then he expresses regret that 
he has offended Laertes. Osric interrupts him by 
bringing a challenge to a friendly fencing match 
with Laertes, which Hamlet accepts. The court 
enter to see the fencing, and during the encounter 
Hamlet and Laertes each receive a mortal wound 
from the poisoned foil, and the queen dies from 
drinking the draught prepared by Claudius for her 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 45 

son. Hamlet, knowing that death is near, rushes 
upon the king and stabs him, also, with the poisoned 
point. As Hamlet dies Fortinbras and the am- 
bassadors from England enter, and Horatio retires 
with them to explain the causes for these many 
deaths. Thus ends the play, and thus ends the sec- 
ond day of the Third Period. 

This long argument and synopsis have been made 
necessary by the wrong numbering of the scenes, 
and by the confusion as to the time occupied by 
the different acts. The six days of the play by this 
synopsis have been discriminated, and the occur- 
rences of each one of them have been ascribed 
to the day to which they belong. I hope this will 
be an aid to the understanding of the play. 



IV. 

The next thing needful in considering the Tragedy 
of Hamlet is at once to inquire how old Shakespeare 
represents his hero to be ; until this is determined 
with approximate certainty, Hamlet is burdened 
with a disguise, — the disguise in which we clothe 
him when we endow him with years that are not 
justly his. 

The only direct evidence on the subject is the 
testimony of the grave-digger. Hamlet asks him : 

How long hast thou been a grave-maker ? 

he replies : 

Of all the daysi' the year, I came to't that day that our last 
king Hamlet overcame Fortinbras. 
How long is that since ? 

asks Hamlet : 

Cannot you tell that ? every fool can tell that : it was the 
very day that young Hamlet was born ; he that is mad, and sent 
into England. 

Further in the scene the grave-digger asserts: 
I have been sexton here, man and boy, thirty years. 
At first sight this seems conclusive ; he has been 
sexton thirty years, and he came to it the very day 
young Hamlet was born. Evidently Hamlet must 
be thirty years old. But the statement 

I have been sexton here, man and boy, thirty years, 

46 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 47 

admits of explanation. The sexton is the sacris- 
tan ; the sacristan has charge of the vestments and 
the sacramental vessels, and is not necessarily the 
grave-digger. A boy may be a sacristan, and often 
is, but it is not probable that a boy would be a grave- 
maker. The clown was probably first a sacristan, 
whose duties were inside the church; and then, as 
he advanced toman's estate and strength, he became 
the grave-digger. He had been sexton man and boy 
thirty years ; he came to grave-making the day young 
Hamlet was born. It is not absolutely certain that 
he came to grave-making thirty years before, and 
therefore it is not absolutely certain that Hamlet is 
thirty years of age. 

But, speaking of Yorick's skull, the grave-digger 
says : 

Here's a skull now ; this skull has lain in the earth three and 
twenty years. 

Hamlet says : 

Alas, poor Yorick ! I knew him, Horatio : a fellow of infinite 
jest, of most excellent fancy : he hath borne me on his back a 
thousand times. 

Yorick has lain in the grave three-and-twenty 
years, and he has carried Hamlet on his back a 
thousand times? — assuredly Hamlet must be at 
least thirty years old ? We should say yes, at once, 
to this, did not a reference to the Quarto of 1603 
show that in that edition the grave- digger says of a 
skull — the only one with which any time is asso- 
ciated — 



4 8 THE TRUE STORY OF 

Looke you, heres a fcull hath bin here this dozen yeare, 
Let me fee, I euer fince our last king Hamlet 
Slew Fortenbraffe in combat, yong Hamlets father, 
Hee that's mad. 

Ham. I mary, how came he madde ? 

Clowne. I faith very ftrangely, by loofing of his wittes. 

Ham. Vpon what ground ? 

Clowne. A this ground, in Denmarke. 

Ham. Where is he now ? 

Clowne. Why now they fent him to England. 

Ham. To England 7 wherefore? 

Clow7ie. Why they fay he fhall haue his wittes there, 
Or if he haue not, t'is no great matter there, 
It will not be feene there. 

Ham. Why not there ? 

Clowne. Why there they say the men are as mad as he. 

Ha?n. Whose fcull was this ? 

Clow?ie. This, a plague on him, a madde rogues it was, 
He powred once a whole flagon of Rhenifh of my head, 
Why do not you know him ? this was one Yorzckes 
fcull. 

Ham. Was this ? I prethee let me fee it, alas poore Yoricke 
I knew him Horatio, 
A fellow of infinite mirth, he hath caried mee twenty times 
vpon his backe. 

The clown, as he turned up the skull, took it in 
his hands, saying, " Heres a scull hath bin here 
this dozen yeare;" he held it during the conver- 
sation about " yong Hamlet" and Hamlet re- 
called his attention to it, by saying, " Whose scull 
was this?" "This," says the grave-digger, "why 
do not you know him ? this was one Yoricke s scull." 
" Was this ? " says Hamlet, " I prethee let me see 
it;" then the grave-digger hands the skull to Ham- 
let, and he, regarding it, says, " Alas poore Yoricke " 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 49 

etc. There is no reference to the time of Hamlet's 
birth. 

A change in numbers seems to have been made, 
without any apparent reason, throughout all the 
play. In the Second Quarto the player king says : 
Full thirtie times hath Phebus cart gone round ; 

but the First Quarto says : 

Full fortie years are paft. 

Hamlet says, in the Second Quarto: 

this three yeeres I hanetooke note of it, the age is growne 
so picked ; 

and the First Quarto says : 

This Seauen yeares haue I noted it. 

In the conversation with the grave-digger one 
quarto says : 

hee hath bore me on his backe a thoufand times ; 
and the other : 

he hath caried me twenty times vpon his backe. 

The Second Quarto says : 

Whereon old Norway ouercome with ioy, 

Giues him three fcore thoufand crownes in anuall fee. 

the First Quarto : 

Giues him three thoufand crownes in annuall fee. 

The Folio says : 

I Sir, to be honest as this world goes, is to bee one man 
pick'd out of two thousand ; 

and the Second Quarto : 

one man pickt out of tenne thoufand. 



50 THE TRUE STORY OF 

The Second Quarto says : 

forty thoufand brothers ; 
and the First Quarto : 

twenty brothers. 
The First Quarto : 

here's a fcull hath bin here this dozen yeare ; 
and the Second Quarto : 

here's a fcull now hath lyen you i'th earth 23. yeeres. 
In the Folio this becomes: 

this fcul, has laine in the earth three & twenty years. 

We can not tell why all these changes were made, 
nor why the twelve in the First Quarto was changed 
to 23. in the Second. Like the play-wrights of the 
present day Shakespeare delighted in local allusions : 
maybe some jester had been dead just three-and- 
twenty years, and the twelve of Q, was altered to 
make a telling hit. It was probably for a like reason 
that many changes in other plays were made, — e.g., 
in the Merry Wives, the names Brentford and Read- 
ing, in the Quarto, are changed to Reading, Maiden- 
head, and Colebrook in the Folio. Or there may 
have been no good actor in the company young 
enough to represent a beardless boy. It is said that 
the words — 

He's fat, and scant of breath — 

were inserted to suit the character to Burbage ; if 
this be true, three-and-twenty may have been in- 
serted for the same reason. Be the reason what it 
may, the number was altered from twelve to three- 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 51 

and-twenty, and, from the evidence contained in 
the play, we may feel sure that it was not so altered 
for the purpose of fixing Hamlet's age at thirty 
years. The speeches of the grave-maker can bear 
two interpretations, but the many allusions in the 
text, that show Hamlet to be much younger, can be 
understood in only one way. The weight of evi- 
dence is strongly in favor of Hamlet's being a very 
young man. He first appears in Act I. Scene II. 
The king and queen, and the courtiers, Hamlet 
among them, have assembled, probably for the first 
time since king Hamlet's death, about two months 
before. The king, after attending to the business 
of the hour, addresses Hamlet, publicly reproving 
him for indulging his grief for his father, and com- 
mending him in the most patronizing manner, when 
he consents to remain in Elsinore instead of going 
back to school in Wittenberg. Both king and queen 
address Hamlet as if he were a youth yet in tute- 
lage, and not a man. The tone of rebuke and pa- 
tronage, in the king's speech, would be intolerable 
to a man of thirty. Claudius would only dare to 
employ it to 

A heart unfortified, a mind impatient, 
An understanding simple and unschool'd; 

Hamlet's reply to the queen's request — 
I shall in all my best obey you, madam — 

is not the answer made by a man whose love for his 
mother constrains him to give up his own will to 
please her, but it is the sullen submission of a youth, 
who finds his wishes publicly opposed by his legal 



52 THE TRUE STORY OF 

guardians, without whose assistance and consent he 
can not go back to school. Obedience is not the 
tribute a man of thirty pays his mother. If Hamlet 
were really a man of those years, he would ex- 
cite contempt, on this his first appearance, by sub- 
mitting, as he does, to be so tutored and rebuked by 
the king and queen. As a youth, we recognize at 
once that he has no choice but to submit. He has 
no revenue, — this appears afterward, — and, as the 
prince who has the voice of the king for his succes- 
sion, he can not choose his residence, or make one 
for himself, as a poor subject could. He remains 
in Elsinore because he must, but thenceforth Den- 
mark appears a prison to him : had he, after this 
public expression of his mother's will and the king's, 
insisted on departing, he would have seemed head- 
strong, rebellious, and disobedient. 

In Act III. Scene IV. Hamlet is again repre- 
sented as very young. This is the scene in which, 
after the mock-play has given him proofs of the 
ghost's trustworthiness, he rebukes his mother, and 
tries to turn her from her guilty love. Polonius has 
suggested that the queen shall summon Hamlet to 
her chamber, after the play, and, all alone, entreat 
him to show his griefs, and has offered, to the king, 
to act as eaves-dropper. He goes before Hamlet to 
the queen's closet, and tells her, — 

Look you lay home to him : 
Tell him his pranks have been too broad to bear with, 
And that your grace hath screen'd and stood between 
Much heat and him. . . . 
Pray you, be round with him. 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 53 

She replies : 

I'll warrant you, 
Fear me not : withdraw, I hear him coming. 

"Tell him his pranks have been too broad to bear 
with, and that your grace hath screen'd and stood 
between much heat and him ! " — " much heat " dis- 
played by his uncle Claudius ! Why should a man 
of thirty care whether Claudius displayed much 
heat or little ? he would not expect to be disci- 
plined by his uncle, and would need no screening, 
nor would Polonius dare to dictate to the queen 
how she should treat a son of thirty years, calling 
his actions pranks. 

But the queen herself plainly indicates that her 
son is young, not only by accepting Polonius's ad- 
vice, but by her reproof to Hamlet. She is very 
angry with him ; heretofore his insubordination has 
been shown against the king, and against Polonius, 
whom she herself dislikes, but to-night, by the mock- 
play, Hamlet has insulted her, as well as the king, 
by permitting a performance that criticised their 
marriage in so open and undisguised a manner. 
She does not know that Claudius murdered her 
husband, and she does not know that, on the testi- 
mony of the ghost, Hamlet knows her to be an 
adulteress : she feels that Polonius is justified in 
saying " his pranks have been too broad to bear 
with," and she means to reprove him sharply. To 
her surprise, Hamlet does not come to her closet 
with the manner of a son expecting deserved re- 
proof; he calls to her impatiently: 

Mother, mother, mother ! 



54 THE TRUE STORY OF 

and, as he enters her presence, he does not wait to 
hear why he was sent for, but asks : 

Now, mother, what's the matter ? 

This must seem to the queen pure insolence and 
bravado, but she answers : 

Hamlet, thou hast thy father much offended. 

In this speech she at once rebukes Hamlet, and 

shows she is prepared to defend her second marriage ; 

but Hamlet, instead of excusing himself, replies 

to her : 

Mother, you have my father much offended. 
Queen. Come, come, you answer with an idle tongue. 
Ham. Go, go, you question with a wicked tongue. 
Qnee?i. Why, how now, Hamlet ! 

(in the First Quarto, "How now boy?") 

Ham. What's the matter now ? 

Queen, Have you forgot me ? 

Ham. No, by the rood, not so : 

You are the queen, your husband's brother's wife ; 

And — would it were not so ! — you are my mother. 
Queen. Nay, then, I'll set those to you that can speak. 

With these impatient words, Gertrude moves to- 
ward the king's apartments, but Hamlet lays hold 
on her, and stops her. 

Do not Gertrude's words, 

Nay, then, I'll set those to you that can speak, 

make it evident that Hamlet is a very young man, 
little more than a boy? She threatens him with a 
scolding from his uncle, and expects him to be sub- 
dued by dread of it. How puerile if the threat be 
addressed to a man of thirty ! 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 55 

Other passages in the play that indicate Hamlet's 
youthfulness are these: Horatio says: 

Let us impart what we have seen to night 
Unto young Hamlet. — I. i. 169. 

The ghost says : 

I could a tale unfold whose lightest word 

Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood. — I. v. 15. 

and again : 

But know, thou noble youth. — I. v. 38. 

When Hamlet is about to follow the ghost to a 
more removed ground, his friends try to prevent 
his going, not by persuasion only, but by endeavor- 
ing forcibly to restrain him. Marcellus says : 

You shall not go, my lord. — I. iv. 79. 
and Horatio adds : 

Be ruled ; you shall not go. 
and Marcellus : 

Let's follow ; 'tis not fit thus to obey him. 
This indicates rather the obligation they felt to 
protect their young prince, than anxiety for a com- 
rade of mature age. 
Poionius says : 

For Lord Hamlet, 
Believe so much in him, that he is young. — I. iii. 123. 

and Laertes, speaking to Ophelia respecting Hamlet, 
says : 

For Hamlet and the trifling of his favour, 

Hold it a fashion and a toy in blood, 

A violet in the youth of primy nature. — I. iii. 5. 

and again : 



56 THE TRUE STORY OF 

For nature, crescent, does not grow alone 
In thews and bulk, but, as this temple waxes, 
The inward service of the mind and soul 
Grows wide withal. 

Was not Hamlet really a stripling who must be 
expected to grow in thews and bulk ere he come to 
man's estate? Do not his own frequent compari- 
sons of himself with Hercules suggest that he 
keenly felt the lack of the bodily strength that en- 
abled the latter, in his youth, to do such deeds of 
valor? 

Laertes, who is apparently about the same age as 
Hamlet, is represented as a young fellow, not yet 
perfected in the accomplishments of the day. Polo- 
nius sends Reynaldo after him into France, with in- 
structions to see how he is behaving himself, and a 
special injunction : 

And let him ply his music. — II. i. 73. 

Laertes was pursuing his studies in France, as 
Hamlet wanted to do at Wittenberg. 

Claudius, speaking to Laertes about the latter's 
skill in fencing, calls it : 

A very riband in the cap of youth. — IV. vii. 78. 

Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, who are the school- 
fellows of Hamlet, 

being of so young days brought up with him, 
And sith so neighbour'd to his youth and haviour. — II. ii. 11. 

do not appear to have been men of mature age. 
Fortinbras, who was no younger than Hamlet, as 
his father was killed the day that Hamlet was born, 
is spoken of by Horatio as — 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 57 

young Fortinbras, 
Of unimproved mettle hot and full. — I. i. 95. 

and Claudius twice applies the same adjective, 
young, to him [I. ii. 17; 28] ; Hamlet calls him 

a delicate and tender prince. — IV. iv. 48. 

and even Osric speaks about 

Young Fortinbras. 

Young Fortinbras is represented as having no 
revenue and no command : his uncle rebukes him 
for taking up arms against Denmark, and, when he 
abandons the idea, 

old Norway, overcome with joy, 
Gives him three thousand crowns in annual fee. — II. ii. 72. 

If young Fortinbras was come of age, would not 
some provision have been already made for him, out 
of the public revenue? If Hamlet was thirty years 
old, would not a maintenance have been provided 
for him, during his father's lifetime, when he at- 
tained his majority? Several passages in the play 
show this was not done. Hamlet says: 

And what so poor a man as Hamlet is 

May do, to express his love and friending to you, 

God willing, shall not lack. — I. v. 184. 

I will not sort you with the rest of my servants, for, to speak 
tc you like an honest man, I am most dreadfully attended. — II. 
ii. 274. 

Beggar that I am, I am even poor in thanks. — II. ii. 280. 

I eat the air, promise-crammed : you cannot feed capons 
so. — III. ii. 99. 

The only passages, except the speech of the sex- 



53 THE TRUE STORY OF 

ton, that indicate that Hamlet might have been 
thirty, are the words of the player-king : 

Full thirty times hath Phoebus' cart gone round. — III. ii. 165. 
and the incidental allusion to king Hamlet's age, in 
the statement : 1 

Ham. His beard was grizzled, — no ? 
Hor. It was, as I have seen it in his life, 
A sable silver'd. — I. ii. 240. 

but this is not worth considering except to note, 
and cast it aside. 

Do you say that this inquiry is a fruitless one, — 
that it makes no difference whether Hamlet was 
twenty years old or thirty? The coherence and 
naturalness of the play depend upon our belief in 
his youth. We expect greater maturity of judg- 
ment, and more self-control, in a man than in a boy. 
A youth of twenty, to whom sorrow was a stranger, 
would bear his grief at his father's death, and his 
mother's hasty marriage, differently from a man of 
mature years. A youth in his nonage must, per- 
force, submit to see his uncle pop in between the 
election and his hopes, and fortify his claim to the 
throne by a marriage with the imperial jointress, 
who might otherwise be regent until her son was 
come of age ; but an ambitious man, who was 
" loved of the distracted multitude," would not in- 
dolently allow himself to be thus forced aside. 

A man of thirty would have sufficient experience 
of life to know that purity might still exist in 
womankind, even though his own mother proved 
criminal : he would not feel that her lapse in virtue 
proved that all other women were vulnerable. This 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 59 

is the judgment of a very young man, who loves for 
the first time. A man of thirty, who was called 
upon to revenge his father's murder, would not 
think it necessary to feign madness to cover his 
design and make it fruitful : he would make no 
change in his daily life, he would do nothing to ex- 
cite suspicion; he would secretly lay his plans, and, 
when they were ripe, he would try to execute them. 
Hamlet, by his assumption of madness, exposes 
himself to espionage and to confinement, either of 
which is likely to defeat his ends. Admitting that 
a mature mind would adopt the screen of pretended 
madness, the disguise would be consistently kept 
up — there would be no explanation to Rosencrantz 
and Guildenstern : " I am but mad north-north- 
west." 

Hamlet's submission to his own exile, without a 
word of expostulation, proves that he was young 
and almost friendless at the court. A man of 
thirty would have made influential friends, who 
would demand an explanation from the king 
when their prince was spirited away. The isola- 
tion in which Hamlet lived was not the result of his 
own desire for solitude, but of his youth. We 
know this from the eagerness with which he wel- 
comed Horatio and his two school-fellows. The 
friends of his childhood — friends that he had made 
before he went to Wittenberg- — were too young to 
have any influence or standing at the court, and 
Hamlet on his return thither found himself alone. 
Claudius's allusion to 

the great love the general gender bear him, 



60 THE TRUE STORY OF 

proves, rather than disproves this. The " gen- 
eral gender" had been accustomed to think of 
Hamlet as their future king, and they loved him 
for what he was, and what they hoped he should 
become. 

The bearing of Hamlet to the sentinels and Ho- 
ratio (I. v. 116) indicates his youth. He had left 
them to go with the ghost, and it was natural to 
suppose that he would make known to them what- 
ever passed out of their sight and hearing, — the 
ghost had appeared first to them. They followed 
Hamlet, and came upon him before he had decided 
how much he should impart to them : he meant to 
keep the revelation secret, but he lacked savoir faire. 
A man would have told them, at once, that he had 
heard what he could not reveal. Knowing that the 
secret was his only, he would not hesitate to deny 
them knowledge of it, and impose secrecy upon 
them ; but Hamlet, not knowing how to deal with 
the subject, tried to joke their inquiries aside. Col- 
eridge says, " The terrible, by a law of the human 
mind, always touches on the verge of the ludicrous." 
Hamlet is so excited and overwrought that sober 
words can neither express nor conceal his feelings, 
and he attempts, by flippancy, to impose not only 
on his hearers, but on himself. By deriding and 
minifying the source of his emotion, he hopes to 
persuade himself, as well as his friends, that he is 
unduly moved ; that a legitimate cause for such in- 
tense agitation does not exist. On how many 
other occasions have the most solemn and sorrow- 
ful emotions been expressed by a burst of hysteri- 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 61 

cal laughter, — Nature's revenge when the relief of 
tears is denied her.* 

" Hamlet ridicules the ghost ; calls him " old 
mole," " truepenny," " worthy pioner," " this fel- 
low in the cellarage;" but he can not make him- 
self believe that the voice he hears is not his fath- 
er's. His only defense against his companions' 
curiosity is mocking speech, and finally irritated 
denial. His youthful irritability shows in contrast 
to Horatio's grave assertion of his own dignity; 
Horatio is hurt by Hamlet's brusqueness, and he 
reminds the prince: 

These are but wild and whirling words, my lord. 
Hamlet says : 

* In confirmation of this idea, I quote from Kean and the 
Elder Booth, edited by Brander Matthews and Laurence Hut- 
ton. In this work, Edwin Booth, writing of his father, says : 
" Great minds to madness closely are allied. Hamlet's 
mind, at the very edge of frenzy, seeks its relief in ribaldry. 
For a like reason would my father open, so to speak, the safety- 
valve of levity in some of his most impassioned moments. At 
the instant of intense emotion, when the spectators were en- 
thralled by its magnetic influence, the tragedian's overwrought 
brain would take refuge from its own threatening storm be- 
neath the jester's hood, and while turned from the audience he 
would whisper some silliness or ' make a face.' When he left 
the stage, however, no allusion to such seeming frivolity was 
permitted. His fellow-actors who perceived these trivialities 
ignorantly attributed his conduct at such times to lack of feel- 
ing, whereas it was the extreme excess of feeling which thus 
forced his brain back from the verge of madness. Only those 
who have known the torture of severe mental tension can ap- 
preciate the value of that one little step from the sublime to 
the ridiculous." 



62 THE TRUE STORY OF 

I'm sorry they offend you, heartily ; 
Yes 'faith, heartily. 

Hor. There's no offence, my lord. 

Ham. Yes, by Saint Patrick, but there is, Horatio, 
And much offence too. Touching this vision here, 
It is an honest ghost, that let me tell you : 
For your desire to know what is between us, 
O'ermaster 't as you may. — I. v. 133. 

A man of the world would have known how to 
turn aside the inquiries of his friends, without so 
plainly indicating that he was doing so. 

In Act V. Scene II. we see another indication of 
Hamlet's youth, in the manner in which he receives 
Osric when he brings him the challenge to the pro- 
posed fencing match. Hamlet is engaged in serious 
talk with Horatio when " this water-fly " interrupts 
them : he receives him gravely enough, but in a 
moment yields to the temptation to chaff him. To 
an older man there would have been no temptation. 
A Hamlet of thirty might have told Osric to make 
his speech intelligible, but he would not have at- 
tempted to lay down counter for counter with him, 
until his purse was empty, and all his golden words 
were spent. The fencing with Laertes was not a 
proof of youth, but this silly bantering of Osric w r as. 
Hamlet accepted the challenge, not from vanity, 
but because it offered him a means to be reconciled 
to Laertes, and was an opportunity to " court his 
favours " that Hamlet — true gentleman that he 
was — was only too happy to embrace. 

The testimony of the grave-digger as to Hamlet's 
age, it seems to me, should be set aside ; the play 
indicates his youth so clearly, in so many places, 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 63 

that it would be perverse to insist on thirty as the 
number of his years. For the maturity of his 
thoughts, which seem those of a much older man, 
the poet must be held accountable. It is Shakes- 
peare who thinks, not Hamlet. Shakespeare loves 
a young man. Many of his heroes are as young, or 
younger. Orlando had not grown a beard, nor had 
Troilus nor Adonis : Bertram, in All's Well, was the 
king's ward, too young to go to the Florentine war: 
Florizel looked twenty-one, but may have been 
younger : the two boys, Cadvval and Polydore, were 
twenty and twenty-three; and Posthumus was very 
young. Shakespeare does not represent any of 
these youths with so mature a mind as Hamlet's, 
but his precocity is not experience of men or things, 
it is exhibited chiefly in imaginative speculation 
upon life and death : it would not surprise us to 
find all that seems precocious in him, attributed as 
natural to several of Shakespeare's female charac- 
ters, — to Helen, in All's Well, and Marina, daughter 
to Pericles, for instance. 

The play becomes much more pathetic and beau- 
tiful when we perceive that Hamlet, a young man 
on whom all his coming years should smile, is, in 
their spring, ruthlessly despoiled of all the hopes 
and illusions that usually accompany and glorify 
that age. The blows that shatter his ideals come 
from his father and his mother, who should be his 
shield against the world : there is imposed on him 
a task from which the maturest mind might shrink, 
and we love and pity him, as he makes his brave 
fight, because he is so young. 



64 HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 

My judgment is that Hamlet was not twenty- 
one. I have set down the ground on which I form 
it, and to them I add, that in the Hystorie, p. 290 
and elsewhere, it is expressly stated that he had not 
come to man's estate. 



V. 

Having arrived at a conclusion about Hamlet's 
age — or youth, — let us consider carefully what was 
his state of mind, and what the conditions that sur- 
rounded him at the beginning of the play. The first 
scene informs us that Denmark, under a new king, 
is in hasty preparation for an attack young Fortin- 
bras intends to make on it : we hear that he de- 
sires to wrest from the kingdom certain lands that 
were won from his father in single combat by the 
late king Hamlet. Our young prince of course 
should feel a special interest in the proposed in- 
vasion of Danish soil, but we are not told that he 
does, nor from the first scene do we learn anything 
about his state of mind or body. The second scene, 
however, exposes Hamlet's mental condition. On 
its opening we see Hamlet for the first time ; we see 
him melancholy to such an extent that he thinks he 
desires to die. His father's death, which occurred 
not quite two months before, was not the chief or 
only cause for his unhappiness. Hamlet had been 
recalled from Wittenberg to attend his father's 
funeral: the late king had been embalmed, and his 
sepulture delayed until his son — his only child — ar- 
rived. The messenger who was sent to tell Hamlet 
of his father's death occupied many days on his 
journey, as did Hamlet on his return to Elsinore. 

65 



66 THE TRUE STORY OF 

The double journey to and from Wittenberg must 
have consumed nearly a month. (The ambassadors 
Claudius sends to Norway are represented as re- 
quiring full two months for their journey thither 
and back.) Hamlet loved his father passionately 
and devotedly, his grief at his death was poignant 
and sincere ; but on the weary journey home from 
Wittenberg, he had full time to moderate the ex- 
pression of his sorrow, and to adjust himself to his 
new life as he supposed it lay before him. He ex- 
pected, when he reached Elsinore, to be welcomed 
as the king; his uncle or his mother might be re- 
gent for a year or two, but he prepared to bear 
himself right kingly, and the sense of his duties and 
responsibilities helped to control and dissipate the 
first passion of grief for his father's death. When 
he reached Denmark his sorrow was augmented, and 
mingled with it was the knowledge that he had been 
cheated and despoiled. 

He found that his uncle had " popped in between 
the election and his hopes," and that he — Clau- 
dius — was now king of Denmark, — the royal Dane. 
Joined to Hamlet's sense of humiliation and defeat 
was the feeling that the manes of his father had 
been dishonored when his son was thrust aside from 
the succession. The throne of Denmark was elect- 
ive, and Claudius filled it by the will of the people ; 
but Hamlet felt that the election had been secured 
by chicanery and fraud, and he was very sore. The 
Hystorie (p. 323) represents Hamlet as claiming the 
throne as his inheritance, and declaring himself the 
lawful successor of his father. He could better have 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 67 

borne his doubled sorrow had he seen reason to 
hope that his uncle might be deposed. If his 
mother would unite with him in disputing Claudius's 
title to the throne, Hamlet might expect so to press 
his claims that they would be acknowledged. But 
Hamlet found his mother arrayed against him, joined 
to the party of his enemies, — joined by a tie closer 
even than that which bound her to him ; she was 
now one flesh with the usurper, married to him 
before the shoes were old in which she followed her 
first husband to the grave. Hamlet then, when the 
play opens, has lost not only his father, but his 
mother and his kingdom, and, in this second scene, 
he is forbidden even the poor consolation of ab- 
senting himself from the spot where everything re- 
minds him of his loss. The constraint put upon 
him is made doubly bitter by the ease with which 
Laertes obtains permission to return to France to 
his studies. We do not know what Claudius's de- 
sign was in keeping Hamlet in Elsinore ; it may be 
he had already determined to make his seat secure 
by compassing Hamlet's death. In the Hystorie 
(p. 239) Hamlet reproaches his mother because she 
did not find means to save her child " by sending 
him into Swethland, Norway, or England, rather 
then to leaue him as a pray to youre infamous 
adulterer." 

At the end of this second scene, in which Hamlet 
has made plain his animosity toward Claudius, his 
First Soliloquy makes clear to us his feeling toward 
his mother, and his weariness of the world, as he 
now finds it. His words are : 



68 THE TRUE STORY OF 

O, that this too too solid flesh would melt, 

Thaw and resolve itself into a dew ! 

Or that the Everlasting had not fix'd 

His canon 'gainst self-slaughter ! O God ! O God ! 

How weary, stale, flat and unprofitable, 

Seem to me all the uses of this world ! 

Fie on't! ah fie! 'tis an unweeded garden, 

That grows to seed ; things rank and gross in nature 

Possess it merely. That it should come to this ! 

But two months dead ; nay, not so much, not two : 

So excellent a king ; that was, to this, 

Hyperion to a satyr ; so loving to my mother 

That he might not beteem the winds of heaven 

Visit her face too roughly. Heaven and earth ! 

Must I remember? why, she would hang on him, 

As if increase of appetite had grown 

By what it fed on ; and yet, within a month — 

Let me not think on't — Frailty, thy name is woman ! — ■ 

A little month, or ere those shoes were old 

With which she follow'd my poor father's body, 

Like Niobe, all tears : — why she, even she — 

O God ! a beast, that wants discourse of reason, 

Would have mourn'd longer — married with my uncle, 

My father's brother, but no more like my father 

Than I to Hercules : within a month : 

Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears 

Had left the flushing in her galled eyes, 

She married. O, most wicked speed, to post 

With such dexterity to incestuous sheets ! 

It is not nor it cannot come to good : 

But break, my heart ; for I must hold my tongue. 

In speaking this soliloquy an actor might help 
his audience to understand that Hamlet believes 
himself unlawfully extruded from the throne. On 
the exit of the court let him indignantly rush to the 
seat that Claudius had occupied as though to take 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 69 

possession of it, and, stopping short, seem to re- 
strain himself because of the image of his father 
seated there, which his imagination brings before 
him. Let him draw forth the portrait of his father, 
and compare it with the picture in his mind's eye, 
and then, turning away, prostrated by grief, begin 
the soliloquy. 

The first words of this soliloquy, as it is now ren- 
dered, are : 

O, that this too too solid flesh would melt, 
Thaw and resolve itself into a dew ! 
Or that the Everlasting had not fix'd 
His canon 'gainst self-slaughter ! 

This is the reading of the First Folio, but the First 
Quarto reads: 

O that this too much grieu'd and tallied flefh 
Would melt to nothing, or that the vniuerfall 
Globe of heauen would turne al to a Chaos ! 

In the Second Quarto this becomes: 

O that this too too tallied flefh would melt, 
Thaw and refolfue it selfe into a dewe, 
Or that the euerlafting had not fixt 
His cannon gainft feale flaughter. 

According to Stratmann (who, however, makes 
many mistakes and omissions), all the editions pre- 
ceding the Folio of 1623 — the First Folio — have 
" too too sallied flesh." I think this reading should 
be restored, unless we go further and adopt the 
reading of the First Quarto. Its words show the 
meaning of the line, and "too much grieved and 
sallied flesh " is as much more elegant and dignified 
than " too too sallied flesh," as this surpasses in ex- 



70 THE TRUE STORY OF 

pressiveness and beauty the " too too solid " of our 
modern editions. Hamlet felt that he was grieved 
and assailed on every side; the obligation to remain 
in Elsinore was a new blow. Sallied is an adjec- 
tive made from the noun sally, and has a kindred 
meaning with attacked, made from the noun attack. 
Hamlet, because he felt that he was too much 
grieved (or wounded) and assailed to endure his 
misery, wished that his too too sallied flesh — his 
bodily frame — would melt and let loose the impris- 
oned soul ; and, in expressing this wish in these 
words he confides to us the reason why he wishes it, 
while this reason is not conveyed by the modern 
reading. 

I wish to direct attention to the fact that while 
Hamlet believes that he would gladly be relieved of 
life, he recognizes that the way to happiness through 
death is barred by the canon which the Everlasting 
has fixed 'gainst self-slaughter: he wishes for death, 
but he does not now, nor at any future time, con- 
template seeking it by suicide, or against the will 
of his Heavenly Father. Submission to lawful 
authority is the rule of Hamlet's life. His disgust 
at his mother's conduct is intense, but obedience to 
parents is so fixed a principle with him that he sub- 
mits, without a word of remonstrance, when Ger- 
trude's second marriage settles his future life. In 
this First Soliloquy he does not manifest any per- 
sonal feeling because of his mother's desertion of 
himself, but all his reproaches are aimed at her 
because she could so soon forget a husband like his 
father, and replace him by his uncle. It is rather a 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 71 

trick with Hamlet to formulate his conclusions — 
the result of his reflections, and he does so in this 
soliloquy in the words, " Frailty, thy name is woman." 
He does not yet know that his mother was false 
during his father's lifetime, but his judgment from 
her conduct as he sees it is, " Frailty, thy name is " 
— not Gertrude, but — " woman ! " He argues from 
one to all, and all womankind he draws sweepstake 
in his conclusion : this judgment afterward influ- 
ences his decision as to Ophelia's ability to resist 
temptation. 

Hamlet is interrupted in his soliloquy by Horatio, 
who comes, with the two sentinels, to tell him that 
for the past three nights, what seems to be his 
father's spirit has appeared on the platform where 
they watched. Hamlet greets Horatio with affec- 
tion, and a display of sincere friendship and inti- 
macy. Although his friend must have been at least 
a month in Elsinore, having come thither to the late 
king's funeral, Hamlet has not seen him nor heard 
of his presence there: this lack of knowledge indi- 
cates how entirely he has separated himself from 
the court and submitted to the hopeless sadness 
that shut down upon him when he returned to 
Denmark. Ophelia has probably been his only 
companion ; in her society he could for a while 
forget his grief, and he indulged himself in the com- 
fort of her presence until he had won her love and 
awakened a responsive passion in his own breast. 

After questioning Horatio and his two friends 
calmly and with coherence of thought and speech, 
Hamlet decides to join them in their watch that 



72 HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 

night, hoping, he knows not what. On his return 
to Denmark he had been told the story of his 
father's death, but had given it only half belief. 
He saw that godlike body 

bark'd about, 
Most lazar-like, with vile and loathsome crust. 

and the story that a serpent's sting had produced 
so remarkable an effect has proved incredible. He 
doubts some foul play, but in what particular 
thought to act he knows not. Now the intelligence 
that his father's spirit is in arms encourages him to 
hope that aid may come to him from the other 
world. His faith in the eternal justice is so strong 
that he believes, 

foul deeds will rise, 
Though all the earth o'erwhelm them, to men's eyes. 

Thus, at the end of the second scene, we see that 
Hamlet is aroused from his lethargy, and, impatient 
for the coming of the night, is already cherishing a 
hope that his condition may be changed. 



VI. 

Immediately after Hamlet has expressed his in- 
tention that night to question the apparition should 
it again assume the appearance of his father, but 
before the hour has arrived for him to do so, 
Ophelia is introduced to us. It is the poet's wisdom 
that shows us Hamlet's feeling against his mother 
before the interview with the ghost. It is also his 
wisdom that makes Scene III. — the parting of Laer- 
tes from Ophelia and Polonius — precede the reve- 
lation of Gertrude's guilt, and Hamlet's consequent 
determination to renounce Ophelia. 

From the moral training that Polonius would give 
his daughter there could scarcely result a pure- 
minded, high-principled, self-controlling character. 
The precepts that he parroted over to Laertes were 
mere echoes of other people's morality ; his real 
nature, and his views on the subject of youthful 
education, are shown in Act II. Scene I. when he 
gives Reynaldo his instructions as to the means he 
shall employ to discover how Laertes is behaving 
himself in France, The instructions are these : 

Pol. Give him this money and these notes, Reynaldo. 

Rey. I will, my lord. 

Pol. You shall do marvellous wisely, good Reynaldo, 

Before you visit him, to make inquire 

Of his behaviour. 
Rey. My lord, I did intend it. 

73 



74 THE TRUE STORY OF 

Pol. Marry, well said ; very well said. Look you, sir, 

Inquire me first what Danskers are in Paris ; 

And how, and who, what means, and where they keep, 

What company, at what expense ; and finding 

By this encompassment and drift of question 

That they do know my son, come you more nearer 

Than your particular demands will touch it : 

Take you, as 'twere, some distant knowledge of him ; 

As thus, ' I know his father and his friends, 

And in part him :' do you mark this, Reynaldo? 
Rey. Ay, very well, my lord. 
Pol. ' And in part him ; but' you may say ' not well : 

But, if't be he I mean, he's very wild ; 

Addicted so and so : ' and there put on him 

What forgeries you please ; marry, none so rank 

As may dishonour him ; take heed of that ; 

But, sir, such wanton, wild and usual slips 

As are companions noted and most known 

To youth and liberty. 
Rey. As gaming, my lord. 

Pol. Ay, or drinking, fencing, swearing, quarrelling, 

Drabbing : you may go so far. 
Rey. My lord, that would dishonour him 
Pol. 'Faith, no ; as you may season it in the charge. 

You must not put another scandal on him, 

That he is open to incontinency ; 

That's not my meaning: but breathe his faults so quaintly 

That they may seem the taints of liberty, 

The flash and outbreak of a fiery mind, 

A savageness in unreclaimed blood, 

Of general assault. 
Rey. But, my good lord, — 

Pol. Wherefore should you do this ? 
Rey. Ay, my lord, 

I would know that. 
Pol. Marry, sir, here's my drift ; 

And, I believe, it is a fetch of wit : 

You laying these slight sullies on my son, 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 75 

As 'twere a thing a little soil'd i' the working, 

Mark you, 

Your party in converse, him you would sound, 

Having ever seen in the prenominate crimes 

The youth you breathe of guilty, be assured 

He closes with you in this consequence ; 

' Good sir,' or so, or ' friend,' or ' gentleman/ 

According to the phrase or the addition 

Of man and country. 
Rey. Very good, my lord. 

Pol. And then, sir, does he this — he does — what was I about 

to say ? By the mass, I was about to say something: where 

did I leave ? 
Rey. At 'closes in the consequence,' at 'friend or so,' and 

' gentleman.' 
Pol. At ' closes in the consequence,' ay, marry ; 

He closes thus : ' I know the gentleman; 

I saw him yesterday, or t'other day, 

Or then, or then ; with such or such ; and, as you say, 

There was a' gaming; there o'ertook in's rouse ; 

There falling out at tennis :' or perchance, 

' I saw him enter such a house of sale,' 

Videlicet, a brothel, or so forth. 

See you now ; 

Your bait of falsehood takes this carp of truth : 

And thus do we of wisdom and of reach, 

With windlasses and with assays of bias, 

By indirections find directions out : 

So by my former lecture and advice, 

Shall you my son. You have me, have you not ? 
Rey. My lord, I have. 

Pol. God be wi' you ; fare you well. 

Rey. Good my lord S 

Pol. Observe his inclination in yourself. 

Rey. I shall, my lord. 

Pol. And let him ply his music. 
Rey. Well, my lord. 

Pol. Farewell ! 



76 THE TRUE STORY OF 

From a father who entertains such broad ideas as 
to what would dishonor his son, Ophelia has re- 
ceived her moral training. She has grown to woman- 
hood without a mother's tender care and guidance, 
and never has been taught either to control her im- 
pulses, or to know the danger that would result 
from the indulgence of them. We see her first in 
the third scene, unless, indeed, she was present 
with the other ladies of the court in the preceding 
scene. Shakespeare seems especially to present 
Ophelia now, so that we may know the ground for 
Hamlet's decision, when, that same night, after the 
revelation of the ghost, the suspicion of her pos- 
sible frailty presents itself to him. 

Her brother, who fondly loves her, is parting from 
her to go to France : he has bidden her farewell, 
but he lingers to caution her against the entertain- 
ment of Hamlet's love, — first, because Hamlet may 
change ; and second, because his station may make 
it difficult for him to choose as he would. But 
Laertes goes further still ; he cautions her against 
herself ; he bids her — 

Then weigh what loss your honour may sustain, 

If with too credent ear you list his songs, 

Or lose your heart, or your chaste treasure open 

To his unmaster'd importunity. 

Fear it, Ophelia, fear it, my clear sister, 

And keep you in the rear of your affection, 

Out of the shot and danger of desire. 

.... best safety lies in fear : 
Youth to itself rebels, though none else near. 

Ophelia, who is always obedient and pliant, answers 
to this : 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 77 

I shall the effect of this good lesson keep, 
As watchman to my heart. 

but her answer does not end here : the rest is 
either impudent, or shows the extreme of innocence ; 
it certainly is not the reply we should expect a 
chaste, pure-minded, self-restraining maid to make ; 
it is not the answer that Miranda in like circum- 
stances, or Marina, would have made : 

But, good my brother, 
Do not, as some ungracious pastors do, 
Show me the steep and thorny way to heaven ; 
Whiles, like a puff 'd and reckless libertine, 
Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads, 
And recks not his own rede. 

Ophelia manifests that hers was a nature for which 
the primrose path of dalliance had strong attractions. 
This is plainly indicated by Laertes's speech, and her 
reply to it, and by her father's succeeding caution. 
Ophelia's words, in this scene, should be so ren- 
dered as absolutely to disclose her disposition to 
the audience. Her first reply to Laertes — No 
more but so? — should be given with no touch of 
sadness or of belief in his estimate of Hamlet's 
favors, but rather with an airy confidence resulting 
from the reflection that her brother does not know, 
as she does, that Hamlet has importuned her with 
love in honorable fashion. This confidence should 
animate her all through the conversation with 
Laertes, and should continue through the conversa- 
tion with her father, until he commands her to break 
off all intercourse with* the prince : then she should 
show the grief she feels at such a harsh and, as she 
believes, unnecessary command. 



78 THE TRUE STORY OF 

Polonius's cautions are evoked by some words in 
Laertes's farewell to Ophelia, and he asks : 

Pol. What is't, Ophelia, he hath said to you ? 

Oph. So please you, something touching the Lord Hamlet. 

Pol. Marry, well bethought : 

'Tis told me, he hath very oft of late 

Given private time to you ; and you yourself 

Have of your audience been most free and bounteous : 

If it be so, as so 'tis put on me, 

And that in way of caution, I must tell you, 

You do not understand yourself so clearly 

As it behoves my daughter and your honour. 

What is between you ? give me up the truth. 

Oph. He hath, my lord, of late made many tenders 
Of his affection to me. 

Pol. Affection ! pooh ! you speak like a green girl, 
Unsifted in such perilous circumstance. 
Do you believe his tenders, as you call them ? 

Oph. I do not know, my lord, what I should think. 

Pol. Marry, I'll teach you : think yourself a baby ; 
That you have ta'en these tenders for true pay, 
Which are not sterling. Tender yourself more dearly ; 
Or — not to crack the wind of the poor phrase, 
Running it thus — you'll tender me a fool. 

Oph. My lord, he hath importuned me with love 
In honourable fashion. 

Pol. Ay, fashion you may call it ; go to, go to. 

Oph. And hath given countenance to his speech, my lord, 
With almost all the holy vows of heaven. 

Pol. Ay, springes to catch woodcocks. I do know, 
When the blood burns, how prodigal the soul 
Lends the tongue vows : these blazes, daughter, 
Giving more light than heat, extinct in both, 
Even in their promise, as it is a-making, 
You must not take for fire. From this time 
Be somewhat scanter of your maiden presence ; 
Set your entreatments at a higher rate 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 79 

Than a command to parley. For Lord Hamlet, 
Believe so much in him, that he is young, 
And with a larger tether may he walk 
Than may be given to you : in few, Ophelia, 
Do not believe his vows ; for they are brokers, 
Not of that dye which their investments show, 
But mere implorators of unholy suits, 
Breathing like sanctified and pious bawds, 
The better to beguile. This is for all : 
I would not, in plain terms, from this time forth, 
Have you so slander any moment leisure, 
As to give words or talk to the lord Hamlet. 
Look to 't, I charge you : come your ways. 
Oph. I shall obey, my lord. 

In this scene Ophelia is cautioned, first by her 
brother, and then by her father, not only to doubt 
the integrity of Hamlet's professions of love, but to 
restrain her own desires, and to guard her honor. 
Had Polonius or Laertes appreciated the absolute 
uprightness of Hamlet's character, these warnings 
would have remained unuttered, but they both 
judge him by what themselves are capable of. 
They do not suppose that the prince is contem- 
plating marriage — such an ending to the love-story 
they gladly would accomplish — but they fear that 
he may tempt the maiden, and they fear that she 
will not resist. Polonius speaks with much warmth, 
telling Ophelia that people have observed her lack 
of maidenly reserve, and have cautioned him in 
reference to the danger there might be to her in 
such close intimacy with Hamlet. Have her father 
and Laertes such a knowledge of Ophelia's dispo- 
sition that they know this warning to be needed ? 
It is a strong measure absolutely to forbid a young 



8o THE TRUE. STORY OF 

maid to "give words or talk with" a lover, unless 
he be a libertine. Do they fear Ophelia will melt in 
her own fire ? At any rate they doubt the ability 
of her virtue to resist assault, and " others " have 
conceived the same doubts : she is innocent, but her 
innocence is the innocence of unassailed ignorance 
and not of principle. This is the view of Ophelia's 
character which is first presented to us by the poet : 
we see her ability to resist temptation doubted by 
those who know her best, and by others. We see 
that her very obedience and pliability expose her to 
danger : she should have made a braver fight for her 
lover, and repelled the insinuations of her father and 
her brother — they should have been intolerable to 
her, not only on her own account but on his. 

We shall be constrained to believe, as we examine 
the play, that, in Ophelia, Shakespeare has repro- 
duced the " faire and beawtifull woman " of the 
Hystorie who was set to entice Hamlet. She was a 
gentlewoman who " from her infancy loved and 
favored " Hamlet, and who now loved him " more 
than herself." Exactly such a character as the 
Hystorie discloses we could not cover with even the 
broad mantle of charity; therefore Shakespeare al- 
ters and modifies it, depicting Ophelia as an inno- 
cent maiden who was truly described by Goethe in 
these words :* 

" Her whole existence flows in sweet and ripe sen- 
sation. Her attachment to the Prince, to whose 
hand she may aspire, flows so spontaneously, her 

* Wilhelm Meister's Appre7iticeship, p.- 228. Translated 
by R. Dillon Boylan. London 1870. 



/ 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 81 

affectionate heart yields so completely to its impulse, 
that both her father and brother are afraid, and 
both give her plain and direct warning of her dan- 
ger. Decorum, like the thin crape upon her bosom, 
can not conceal the motions of her heart, but on 
the contrary it betrays them. Her imagination is 
engaged, her silent modesty breathes a sweet desire, 
and if the convenient goddess Opportunity should 
shake the tree, the fruit would quickly fall." 

The censure of Polonius and Laertes, while it 
seems harsh, is not unnecessary. Ophelia is so truly 
innocent and unconscious, that even the cause of 
her own sensations is not recognized by her ; she 
knows that all the currents of her being set to 
Hamlet, but she recognizes nothing of the danger 
involved in being carried onward by them. In 
Hamlet's presence, and with him, she delights to 
tread " the primrose path of dalliance." This Ham- 
let knows, and the knowledge leads him afterward 
to condemn her for a fault that he, and he only, 
had tempted her to commit. 

All our sympathies enwrap Ophelia when we see 
her repudiated and disowned by a lover whom she 
does not know that she has ever offended. This 
double strain in the tragedy — Hamlet condemning 
before it is proven that condemnation is necessary, 
and Ophelia suffering for a fault she does not know 
she has committed — gives to the present view of the 
play its special charm. From Hamlet's point of 
view we agree with him, and justify him in his de- 
cision to renounce his love. We admit, when he re- 
minds us of it, that by a maiden's behavior before 
marriage we can foretell and determine her de- 



8z THE TRUE STORY OF 

meanor after it ; we agree in thinking that reserve 
and self-control are necessary qualities in a girl who 
is to make a faithful, self-respecting wife. 

But when Ophelia discloses her deep and true 
affection, supposing that she is revealing only that 
of Hamlet, we see it is nature and not depravity 
that speaks. We long to tell the maid what her 
dead mother would have told her. We weep in spirit 
when we see her agony at the belief that, by her 
absolute obedience to her father's harsh command, 
she has dethroned Hamlet's " noble and most sove- 
reign reason." We mourn over the sorrow these 
two young souls endure : how gladly would we use 
our knowledge of them both to make the truth clear 
to their wounded hearts. Shakespeare puts us in this 
position, where we can hear and justify both sides. 
We are the gods who sit above the clouds, longing 
to help, but knowing that a clumsy interfering 
touch will disarrange more than it would relieve. 
We see the cross-purposes with which the play 
abounds ; the irony of Fate is made clear to us ; we 
realize that it is from the lessons of the queen that 
Hamlet has constructed his ideal of womanly virtue, 
and we know the horrid truth, that these lessons 
were given with the hope that by preaching purity 
she would be esteemed to practice it. Even for 
those who have not gained our clearer insight the 
story has a boundless charm ; for us it is the play of 
plays: every light cast upon it reveals a new beauty. 
It is the picture of the life we live or that is lived 
beside us every hour. 

Shakespeare, then, showed us Ophelia, and let her 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 83 

disclose her disposition to us thus early in the play, 
so that we might not absolutely rebel when inexor- 
able faithfulness to his own ideal made Hamlet 
determine to tear his love for her out of his heart, 
and to separate her from his life ; this he does on 
the night of the same day that the gentle maiden is 
introduced to us. 



VII. 

In the fourth scene of the first act Hamlet goes 
to the platform to await the appearance of the ghost. 
As this is not a eulogy but an exposition of Shakes- 
peare, I shall not now, nor as we advance, direct 
attention to, or speak in admiration of, any of the 
manifold beauties of the play : I am not more capa- 
ble to discover and appreciate these than my reader. 
Nor shall I step aside to allude to the interpreta- 
tions that have been put by critics on certain 
phrases or situations, unless it be absolutely neces- 
sary to the unfolding of the story. While I believe 
that the student who for the first time compares 
the original editions with our modern edition will 
be struck by many manifestly corrupt readings, yet 
this is not an examination of the text of Hamlet, but 
of the story ; and I mean to confine myself to point- 
ing out what the story is that the text expounds, 
passing quickly from points that need no explication, 
and repeating, again and again, what I believe to be 
the explanation of passages of confused or doubtful 
meaning. 

Hamlet, then, waits on the platform, with his 
friends, for the appearance of the ghost. He is not 
nervous or apprehensive, he is even cheerful, he has 
his nerves and mental forces so under control that 
he can chat with Horatio about the bad habits of his 

s 4 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 85 

uncle, and put his moralizings on the subject into a 
didactic, epigrammatic form. The truth is, he does 
not thoroughly believe the ghost story; he is not on 
fhe qui vive, and the apparition enters unseen by 
him. His first words, when Horatio calls his atten- 
tion to it, show that the majesty of the ghost's ap- 
pearance and its resemblance to his father have 
surprised him. Little by little he lets belief take 
hold on him, until at last he calls the apparition — 
" Hamlet, King, Father, Royal Dane," but to this 
invocation the ghost is dumb. Hamlet's interest 
and excitement grow so intense that he breaks away 
from his friends, who would forcibly restrain him, 
and, following the ghost, he leaves the scene with 
it. Alone with the spirit, dread takes hold on him, 
and he stops, fearing it may indeed be a " goblin 
damn'd " who is leading him to destruction. 

Ham. Where wilt thou lead me ? speak ; I'll go no further. 

Ghost. Mark me. 

Ham. I will. 

Ghost. My hour is almost come, 

When I to sulphurous and tormenting flames 

Must render up myself. 
Ham. Alas, poor ghost ! 

Ghost. Pity me not, but lend thy serious hearing 

To what I shall unfold. 
Ham. Speak ; I am bound to hear. 

Ghost. So art thou to revenge, when thou shalt hear. 
Ham. What? 
Ghost. I am thy father's spirit, etc. 

Hamlet's answers, when the ghost first speaks, 
show that the critical faculty is aroused in him, and 
that he intends to weigh whatever he may hear, and 



86 THE TRUE STORY OF 

decide, with the help of his reason, whether the 
spirit comes with " intents wicked or charitable." 
After the first replies, which suggest an incredulity 
that is rebuked by the ghost in the words, — 

So art thou to revenge, when thou shalt hear, — 

Hamlet listens, without any interruption, except an 
occasional exclamation, until the ghost announces : 

The serpent that did sting thy father's life 
Now wears his crown. 

Then the belief that has been growing in Hamlet is 
confirmed, and his pent-up excitement is relieved, 
by the cry : 

O my prophetic soul ! 
My uncle ! 

He has been told something that he wishes to be- 
lieve, and he fully credits it, as also all the succeed- 
ing revelations. 

The apparition of the late king describes the cir- 
cumstances of his taking off, having first impressed 
upon Hamlet the duty to avenge his murder. As 
the revelation proceeds, and the story of Gertrude's 
alienation from her husband and of her falseness is 
presented to Hamlet, the ghost seems to feel that 
Claudius had wrought a greater crime when he won 
Gertrude to his shameful lust, than when he secured 
the crown by murdering his brother. And so, in 
truth, he had, for he had destroyed the immortal 
part of Gertrude — her virtue — while the king he had 
but deprived of life. 

The revenge which the ghost desires Hamlet to 
procure is not to be obtained by wrenching the 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 87 

crown from the usurper's grasp, or by his death. 

To the late king the crown is but a bauble when 

compared with the love of his most seeming-virtuous 

queen. The injunction laid on Hamlet is : 

Let not the royal bed of Denmark be 
A couch for luxury and damned incest. 

His task was not alone to be the killing of the 
king, but the weaning of the queen from her guilty 
affection for him. The ghost is most particular in 
this, and his feeling against his brother is manifested 
chiefly because he had debauched the queen. He 
is called 

That incestuous, that adulterate beast, 
not " that murderer." The ghost assumes that the 
queen was subdued to a power which she could not 
successfully struggle against. The " witchcraft " of 
Claudius's wit was too strong for her to resist it, 
therefore her husband's love for her is not destroyed, 
and he cautions Hamlet — 

But, howsoever thou pursuest this act 
(the act being that by which he should purify the 
royal bed of Denmark), — 

Taint not thy mind, nor let thy soul contrive 
Against thy mother aught : leave her to heaven 
And to those thorns that in her bosom lodge 
To prick and sting her. 

The ghost feels this to be a necessary caution ; he 
fears that Hamlet will be more incensed against his 
mother than against his uncle, and he tries to pro- 
tect his dearly loved Gertrude from the possible 
results of her son's judgment of her. (When he 
again appears to Hamlet in the queen's closet, he 



88 THE TRUE STORY OF 

makes a like effort to protect and comfort her.) 
The ghost is wise in laying this injunction on Ham- 
let ; without it, Gertrude would have been the first 
object on which his righteous wrath would expend 
itself. 

I think it is not right to represent Hamlet — 
as so many actors do — as terrorized on the first ap- 
pearance of the ghost. He has come to the plat- 
form prepared to see a something in his father's 
form and semblance ; he has expressed the deter- 
mination, — 

If it assume my noble father's person, 

I'll speak to it, though hell itself should gape 

And bid me hold my peace ; 

and, when the ghost appears, he does question it, 
not hurriedly or fearfully, but with deep awe, tem- 
pered with affection and pity. Hamlet's lines give 
no indication of fear or hesitation, until after he has 
followed the apparition to a more remote part of 
the platform ; then, indeed, he says : 

Where wilt thou lead me ? speak ; I'll go no further. 
But this seems only caution, not fear. Why should 
he fear? his friends have thrice before encountered 
the dread shape, and have escaped unhurt, and his 
loving father would be no less tender towards him 
than them. If fear take possession of the human 
breast it leaves no room for any other sensations; 
but Hamlet manifested sympathy, pity, indignation, 
hatred, and disgust. These feelings animate and 
sway him; he is intensely agitated and excited, but 
I think he feels no fear. On the stage, during the 
latter part of the revelation, Hamlet should control 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 89 

the manifestation of every feeling, except when a 
wave of tender affection sweeping over him bears 
him nearer to his beloved father. On the depart- 
ure of the apparition he should still be controlled 
by the awe with which its presence had inspired him. 
It should press on him like a weight, and should 
help to bow his knees to a sudden collapse when he 
asks, And shall I couple ? From that point, as he 
controls his bodily weakness, he emancipates him- 
self from the sway of the feeling that had governed 
him in the presence of the apparition, and continues 
free from it until the repeated — Swear — from be- 
neath the platform, again subjects him to its do- 
minion. It is awe that inspires Hamlet's answer to 
Horatio : 

And therefore as a stranger give it welcome. 
And— 

Rest, rest, perturbed spirit ! 

is the prayer of an awe-stricken soul. 
To the sad farewell of the apparition — 

Adieu, adieu ! Hamlet, remember me — 

Hamlet returns no answer. He is lost in con- 
templation of the change its revelation has already 
made in his duties and responsibilities. His rela- 
tion to the universe has suddenly been changed ; he 
is not now a sufferer only — the football of the gods 
— he has been constituted an avenger. His first 
words after the departure of the spirit do not ex- 
press tender commiseration of his father's wrongs, 
nor a vow to avenge them, nor filial love trying to 
alleviate them : the ghost for a moment is a second- 



9 o THE TRUE STORY OF 

ary consideration, and Hamlet thinks only of him- 
self, and contemplates his future life. His first 
words are an appeal to the hosts of heaven. He 
does not expect thence any instant help to bear the 
dreadful revelation, but it is our impulse to turn in 
trouble toward something stable and eternal, not 
changeable by the accidents of life. Hamlet ex- 
claims : 

O all you host of heaven ! O earth ! 

and then he thinks : My father is murdered, my 
mother is estranged, my crown is usurped ; I have 
neither father, nor mother, nor home. What else? 
what else can I be deprived of? Into his mind 
comes the remembrance of Ophelia, and, for a mo- 
ment, he believes he can take sanctuary near the 
altar of their mutual love. But quickly he consid- 
ers whether he is indeed secure of her affection. He 
recalls his old idea of the queen, and, picturing Ophe- 
lia to himself, recalling the freedom with which she 
has returned his demonstrations of affection, he in- 
stantly determines that she is no better, no purer by 
nature, than his mother. With grim cynicism he 
perceives that a celibate life will deprive outrageous 
fortune of one of the arrows she might aim against 
him, as she had employed it against his father, and 
he almost laughs, with a sardonic joy, as he makes 
his judgment of Ophelia, and exclaims: 

And shall I couple ? Hell ! * 

* The use of this word is suggested by the Hystorie (p. 298), 
in a strongly elaborated sentence. The verb is used several 
times in the Hystorie, e. g., pp. 288, 331. 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 91 

This judgment shuts out the last ray of light from 
a life already darkened by clouds of sorrows ; what 
wonder that soul and body tremble under the depri- 
vation. He is a brave man, who, if his eye offend 
him, can pluck it out and cast it from him : Hamlet 
tore out the very heart from his bosom ; what won- 
der then that the loss unnerved him ! But it was 
only for a moment ; beginning to recover command 
of his mental parts, he exclaims — " O, fie ! " in rep- 
rehension of his bodily weakness. 

O, fie ! Hold, hold, my heart ; 
And you, my sinews, grow not instant old, 
But bear me stiffly up. 

Then follows : 

Remember thee ! 
Ay, thou poor ghost, while memory holds a seat 
In this distracted globe. 

How could he but remember, when their condi- 
tions, as it seemed, were so parallel — both deprived 
of their heart's idol, and .by her own unworthiness. 

Remember thee ! 
Yea, from the table of my memory 
I'll wipe away all trivial fond records, 
All saws of books, all forms, all pressures past, 
That youth and observation copied there ; 
And thy commandment all alone shall live 
Within thebook and volume of my brain, 
Unmix'd with baser matter : yes, by heaven ! 

Then he pauses a moment, and is again aroused 
to invective by the recollection that it is his mother 
who is the cause of all his misery. Had she been 
true his father might have lived, for Claudius would 



92 THE TRUE STORY OF 

have lacked the chief incentive to his crime. He 
sees that it is his mother's wickedness, and weakness 
under temptation, that has dethroned his ideal of 
womanly purity, and set in motion all the engines 
that have destroyed his hopes for happiness. His 
wrath is directed to her first, before it touches Clau- 
dius. Claudius is but an instrument. He ex- 
claims : 

O most pernicious woman ! 

" most pernicious " if she can so blast the lives of 
father and of son. Then he remembers that with- 
out temptation she would have remained as pure 
as she once seemed to be, and he cries out: 

villain, villain, smiling, damned villain ! 
My tables, — meet it is I set it down, 

That one may smile, and smile, and be a villain ; 
At least I'm sure it may be so in Denmark. — 

then he writes. 

Although neither the Quartos nor the First Folio 

gives thedirection found in the modern editions — 

Writing — I do not believe that Hamlet merely jabs 

the point of his stylet into the tables. He has just 

determined to make his memory a blank, so that 

his father's commandment may live there all alone, 

and he can not therefore commit this reflection to 

its charge — he must set it down — and he does so, he 

inscribes something; not those very words, it may 

be, but something german to the subject, for he 

says : 

So, uncle, there you are. Now to my word ; 
It is ' Adieu, adieu ! remember me.' 

1 have sworn't. 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 93 

This writing was an ordinary every-day act to 
which Hamlet was accustomed in that other world 
where ghosts were strangers, and it let his nerves 
down from their extreme tension ; it was a break 
that allowed him to reply with an assumption of 
calmness to the calls of his companions. This calm- 
ness he could not maintain consistently under their 
questionings, but as we have already considered his 
fencing with their inquiries, and the reasons for it, 
we need not again advert to it, except to say that a 
sober realization that his murdered father had re- 
turned to purgatorial fires would then have unsettled 
Hamlet's reason. He put the conviction aside and 
tried by mockery to conceal, from his companions 
and himself, the depth of his emotion. The solemn 
Swear, from beneath their feet, was not needed 
only to convince Horatio and the others that the 
ghost had voice as well as motion, but it gave Ham- 
let an instant's hope. The ghost had said : 

My hour is almost come, 
When I to sulphurous and tormenting flames 
Must render up myself. 

and the revelation had been cut short because the 
dawn approached. This tarrying and echoing of 
Hamlet's voice allowed him to ignore the belief 
that his beloved father was a sufferer, and to post- 
pone the sympathetic commiseration of his agony. 
It was many weeks before he arrived at the fixed 
conclusion that this spirit, that " had been loosed 
out of hell to speak of horrors," was his revered 
father, and this interval of oscillation between doubt 
and belief was the salvation of Hamlet's reason. 



94 THE TRUE STORY OF 

But, at the instant that he heard the revelation, he 
accepted the obligation to obey the ghost's c jtfn- 
mand, and from that moment we see his office in 
the play. Hamlet is the Avenger. 

The crime he has to punish, the object he has to 
attain, is a double one : he must kill the king, and 
restore his mother to her former allegiance to his 
dead father. This Hamlet resolved to do. His 
father's injunction was: 

If thou hast nature in thee, bear it not; 
Let not the royal bed of Denmark be 
A couch for Luxury and damned incest. 

[Remove my brother from your mother's bed, and 
from her heart.] 

The command to kill that brother was not so ex- 
plicit; it was included in the command : 

If thou didst ever thy dear father love- 
Revenge his foul and most unnatural murder. 

Both of these tasks, and a third one also, Hamlet 
resolved to execute : he determined to separate him- 
self from Ophelia. Not because he had the former 
tasks to perform, but because he had convinced him- 
self that a union with her would expose him to the 
same unhappiness his father had endured, and pos- 
sibly compel him, in his turn, to burden a son with 
the same obligation that he must now labor to ful- 
fill. He resolved to renounce Ophelia now, in order 
to secure his own future peace of mind ; he resolved 
to win Gertrude back to her lawful allegiance in 
order to secure the quiet repose of his father's spirit. 
This was his task. Never was son given a more dif- 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 95 

ficult one ; his very son-ship made it the more im- 
jJtossible. A stranger who was not under filial obli- 
gation might have set about it forthwith, but Ham- 
let delayed action for two months, unable to devise 
a scheme by which to effect his mother's restoration 
to moral purity, and while he thus delayed he was 
" torn by conflicting doubts," 

In the old Hystorie, Hamblet never knows that his 
mother was false to his fatlier during his life-time. 
Hamblet was there prompted to kill his uncle only 
by the natural sentiments of ambition and revenge. 
When Shakespeare introduced the ghost, and 
allowed it to reveal Gertrude's unfaithfulness, he 
altered Hamlet's relation to the crime he had to 
punish. It was no longer the injury done to his 
father and himself, by the murder and assumption 
of the crown, that he was required to revenge, but 
he was expected to right a wrong that he could not 
prove had been committed. This was more difficult 
than to prove a murder when no dead body has been 
found. When Shakespeare altered the features of 
Hamlet's duty, by the alteration he necessitated 
the use of other efforts to perform it than those em- 
ployed by the young prince in the novel. There he 
used cunning to preserve his life only until he could 
successfully punish the unlawful exercise of force, 
by force. 

It has been said that the comprehension of the trag- 
edy of Hamlet is the history of a man's own mind. 
This seems to me a sweeping statement, but I do be- 
lieve that if a man will put himself in Hamlet's 
place, and then examine the workings of his own 



g6 THE TRUE STORY OF 

mind, he will understand what Hamlet was suffer- 
ing and thinking during the two months of inaction 
that followed the revelation of the ghost. 

He knew that he was doubly bound by filial obli- 
gation to obey his father's command. His duty 
to his mother, as well as to his father, forbade him 
to neglect it. His was the task to save his mother's 
soul from perdition, by inducing her to repent, her 
sin, and renounce the thing she sinned for. Ham- 
let's conscientiousness made him feel this was im- 
perative, it was a religious obligation, and he ac- 
cepted and meant to perform it. While his cause 
for grief had been increased by his father's revela- 
tion, his sorrow was not so overwhelming after as be- 
fore it : he no longer sorrowed as one without hope. 
Obedience to his father was obligatory ; in this was 
included his duty to both his parents; by perform- 
ing this duty he would seat himself upon the throne ; 
this Hope whispered whenever his purpose cooled. 
The revelation of the ghost had given his life an ob- 
ject, and had stimulated his soul to a feverish eager- 
ness. He was no longer always despondent ; he 
watched his uncle when with him, and thought about 
him when absent. He hoped that by some overt 
act or word Claudius would betray his guilt. 

Nor did Hamlet's conscience trouble him when 
he contemplated the killing of the king ; the king 
was an adulterer, a murderer and a thief : it would 
be " perfect conscience " to rid the world of him. 
In the old Hystorie (p. 304) Hamlet expresses this 
conviction in the following words : 

" And who knoweth not that traytors and periured 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 97 

persons deserve no faith nor loyaltie to be obserued 
towardes them, and that conditions made with mur- 
therers ought to be esteemed as cobwebs, and ac- 
counted as if they were things neuer promised nor 
agreed vpon : but if I lay handes vpon Fengon, it 
will neither be fellonie nor treason, hee being neither 
my King nor my Lord : but I shall iustly punish 
him as my subiect, that hath disloyaly behaued him- 
selfe against his Lord and soueraigne prince." 

If Hamlet's task had been nothing more than to 
compass the death of his uncle, it would have been 
instantly accomplished. To give rest to his father's 
perturbed spirit Hamlet would have rushed upon 
Claudius and stabbed him to the heart even though 
the courtiers' daggers had the next moment been 
buried in his own breast. He did not set his life 
at a pin's fee. 

But by thus killing the king he would make it for- 
ever impossible to fulfill the remainder — the most 
important part — of his father's imposition, and 
would involve Gertrude still further in her guilt. 
Her love for Claudius would blaze up anew when 
he was slain ; she would see in the murder only the 
personal revenge of Hamlet because he had been 
ousted from the throne ; she would wrap Claudius 
in her love, and embalm him in her heart, feeling 
that he had fallen a martyr to an unjustifiable ha- 
tred. Hamlet could not kill the king until he had 
separated Gertrude's affections from him. This was 
the chief consideration that held him so long in- 
active. 







VIII. 



HAMLET loved Ophelia : until that dreadful night 
with the ghost, he had hoped she would become his 
loved and honored wife. His mother he had always 
revered as the embodiment of womanly virtue, and 
Ophelia — highest praise that he could give her — was 
like his mother. The revelation of the ghost has 
made this likeness fatal. He must renounce Ophe- 
lia now. He can not for an instant contemplate 
giving to his own children such a mother as he him- 
self possesses. Hamlet thinks this in the days that 
followed the revelation of the ghost, but this is not 
all he thinks : sometimes he is incredulous as to 
the reliability of the apparition ; he reflects that the 
spirit he has seen may be the devil — the father of 
lies — and he doubts whether his father was mur- 
dered, he doubts whether his mother is criminal ; 
he fears the arch-adversary may have set a trap for 
his soul, which he hopes to secure by making him 
kill the king. 

He can not determine how to find out the truth. 
Much as he dislikes the king, how gladly would he 
disbelieve the ghost. Could he but prove the ghost 
a liar he might again indulge his love ; he would 
not need to abandon his faith in Ophelia or control 
his affection for her. 

It was in some such mood as this that he wrote 

9 3 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 99 

the letter to Ophelia that Polonius afterward read 
to he king and queen., 

1 he First Quarto represents this letter, which is 
much shorter there than it now reads, as having 
been sent to Ophelia before her father cautioned 
her to avoid Hamlet and receive no tokens from 
him, and therefore before the revelation of the 
ghost. We are forced to this conclusion by Co- 
rambis's (Polonius's) statement to the king : 

Now when I faw this letter, thus I befpake 

my maiden : 
Lord Hamlet is a Prince out of your ftarre. 

But in preparing the Second Quarto Shakespeare 
re-wrote the whole scene in which the letter is read, 
and added to it more than one-half as much as it 
before contained. He cut out the statement which 
fixes the time at which the letter was received, and 
greatly amplified it : in the First Quarto it consisted 
only of the rhymed lines : 

Doubt that in earth is fire, 

Doubt that the ftarres doe moue, 

Doubt truth to be a liar, 

But doe not doubt I loue. 

To the beautifull Ofelia : 

Thine euer the most vnhappy Prince Hamlet. 

The changes Shakespeare made in this letter, and 
the additions to it, embodying Hamlet's statement — 

O dear Ophelia, I am ill at these numbers ; I have not art to 
reckon my groans : but that I love thee best, O most best, 
believe it — 

justify us in attributing it now to a time after the 
revelation of the ghost. If the ghost were really 



ioo THE TRUE STORY OF 

his father's spirit, v Hamlet felt that the story it told 
would compel him to separate himself forever f om 
Ophelia ; but while he was unable to convince him- 
self that the story was true, his heart constantly 
pleaded with his reason for permission to cherish 
and preserve its love. Hamlet knew that he had 
been excluded from Ophelia's presence, his former 
letters had been returned to him and audience 
denied him. He pondered over the causes that 
might have induced this changed behavior, and 
reasoned something in this way : f I doubt my uncle, 
I doubt my mother, I doubt Ophelia, I doubt even 
my own judgment as to right and wrong, because I 
doubt the indications from which my judgment 
must be made. Is my mother only seeming-virtu- 
ous, and my uncle a smiling villain? If I doubt 
Ophelia, for an unproved reason, may not Ophelia, 
in her turn, doubt me?' He can not bear to be 
suspected of changeableness by her whom he so 
dearly loves, even though he does doubt her, and, 
desiring that she shall not relinquish her faith in his 
affection until he has been absolutely convinced that 
he must withdraw it, he sends her the letter, the 
only one Polonius sees. In the happy days when 
Ophelia was of her "audience most free and boun- 
teous," they did not need to write. This is the 
letter : 

To the celestial and my soul's idol, the most beautified Ophelia, 
— In her excellent white bosom, these, &c. 

Doubt thou the stars are fire ; 
Doubt that the sun doth move; 
Doubt truth to be a liar ; 
But never doubt I love. 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 101 

O dear Ophelia, I am ill at these numbers ; I have not art to 
reckon my groans : but that I love thee best, O most best, 
believe it. Adieu. 

Thine evermore, most dear lady, whilst this machine is to him, 

Hamlet. 

In spite of her father's commands Ophelia did not 
return this letter to Hamlet — who would not wish 
to retain so earnest and impassioned an avowal of 
love ? But her disobedience ended here, in self- 
indulgence. Hamlet waited, vainly hoping for an 
answer. Ophelia had received the letter and he 
wearied for a reply. Again he became a prey to 
his belief in the dreadful visitation, once again he 
believed that Ophelia was faithless and unworthy. 
Day after day he revolved her conduct in his mind, 
night after night he brooded over the revelation of 
the ghost. Two months had passed since he re- 
ceived it, and he had not yet proved its truth or 
falsity. During all this time he had had no inter- 
view with Ophelia, and had been unable to resolve 
his doubts as to her integrity, and the continuance 
of her love. This struggle had impaired his health, 
he could neither eat nor sleep ; and finally, driven to 
absolute lack of self-control by his solitary com- 
munings with his melancholy, Hamlet broke into 
Ophelia's presence, which he sought in her very 
chamber; but when he stood before her, he regained 
his self-command, and withheld himself from speak- 
ing any of the words with which he might have 
blasted her ear. The particulars of the interview 
we know from Ophelia's report of it to her father. 
We, who know what was in Hamlet's mind, who 



102 THE TRUE STORY OF 

know that with every sense he sought from Ophelia's 
mien the confirmation or the resolution of his doubts, 
can pity him : his very appearance should excite 
our pity. 

His doublet all unbraced ; 
No hat upon his head ; his stockings foul'd, 
Ungarter'd, and down-gyved to his ancle ; 
Pale as his shirt ; his knees knocking each other ; 
And with a look so piteous in purport 
As if he had been loosed out of hell 
To speak of horrors. 

Even such a physical condition had the conflict 
in Hamlet's soul produced.* There was no inter- 
change of speech at this short meeting ; if Ophelia 
were false he could not trust her words, but he 
had faith in the " eternal blazon of her lineaments." 
She describes Hamlet's behavior to her father : 

He took me by the wrist and held me hard ; 

Then goes he to the length of all his arm; 

And, with his other hand thus o'er his brow, 

He falls to such perusal of my face 

As he would draw it. Long stay'd he so; 

At last, a little shaking of mine arm 

And thrice his head thus waving up and down, 

He raised a sigh so piteous and profound 

That it did seem to shatter all his bulk 

And end his being : that done, he lets me go : 

* I think Shakespeare would not have represented Hamlet in 
this condition of disorder were it not for these lines in the old 
Hystorie (p. 290) : 

hee rent and tore his clothes, wallowing and lying in the durt 
and mire, his face all filthy and blacke, running through the 
streets like a man distraught, not speaking one worde, but such 
as seemed to proceede from madnesse, and meere frenzie. 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 103 

And, with his head over his shoulder turn'd, 
He seem'd to find his way without his eyes; 
For out o' doors he went without their help, 
And, to the last, bended their light on me. / 

Poor maid ! the last time the light of Hamlet's 
eyes was turned on her in love ! 

Who can tell what trifle light as air confirmed him 
then in the renunciation of Ophelia ? A look, a move- 
ment, magnified by vigilant jealousy, is confirmation 
strong as proof of holy writ, f Ophelia tells her 
father she had been much affrighted : it may be 
Hamlet saw her shrinking fear, and attributed it 
to changing love, or to an inability to meet his ques- 
tioning eye without a blush. He knew Ophelia 
well — much more intimately than we do — he knew 
what license she had given to the expression of her 
love, and, after debating the question for two end- 
less months, he finally decides, in this pathetic in- 
terview, that she has manifested at least the poten- 
tiality of wrong-doing. ' Did we not know that her 
father and her brother had judged her with the 
same harsh judgment, we might condemn Hamlet 
when he thus repudiates his love, for no apparent 
cause. The frailty of his mother is not a sufficient 
reason for his severe judgment of Ophelia, but it 
was fortified, and suspicion fostered in Hamlet's 
mind, by his recollection of the private hours he 
had passed in Ophelia's presence. Poor girl ! she 
had' no mother to teach her the beauty of reticence 
or maidenly reserve, and now she pays the penalty 
of her unconscious fault. We must accept Hamlet's 
judgment as to the possible frailty of Ophelia. May 



io 4 HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 

we not believe that he had seen some sensitiveness, 
some susceptibility, some riot in her blood, which, 
pondered on, led to his final judgment of her char- 
acter, and drove him to the bitter conclusion that 
he dared not entrust the guardianship of his honor 
to her ? 
r Hamlet leaves Ophelia's chamber convinced of 
the reliability of the ghost, and knowing that he 
must obey his father's command ; but in the hours 
that intervene between this interview and the mock- 
play, when his doubts are set at rest forever, he 
suffers many alternations of doubt and of belief. 
If he could trust the ghost his course would all 
along be comparatively clear to him : it is his fear 
that he may be the victim of a delusion that pre- 
vents his taking any steps to obey its dread com- 
mand. J How dare he, on no other testimony than 
the unwitnessed statement of an apparition, accuse 
his mother of adultery, his uncle of murder? 

Do you say this vacillation between doubt and 
certainty indicates a diseased and unbalanced mind? 
Not so. Put yourself in Hamlet's place, and frank- 
ly confess you would have wavered as he did, or 
else point out the grounds from which you could 
derive a fixed opinion. 



IX. 

It is not until after Hamlet goes to Ophelia's cham- 
ber, two months after the revelation of the ghost, 
that we receive any intimation that he is considered 
insane. As Ophelia describes his appearance and 
behavior to Polonius, the old chamberlain jumps 
to a conclusion that is very pleasing to him — he 
would gladly see his daughter married to the crown 
prince — and exclaims : 

Mad for thy love ? 

and Ophelia replies : 

My lord, I do not know ; 
But truly, I do fear it. 

Ophelia knew that Hamlet had been sad before 
she sent back his letters and refused to receive his 
visits, in obedience to her father's command; but 
she had seen that in her society his grief seemed 
forgotten, and she had hoped that, the memory of 
his father's death growing fainter, he would find 
renewed happiness in the enjoyment of her love. 
She had not spoken with him in two months, al- 
though he had tried to obtain speech of her, and it 
was natural that she should think Hamlet's altered 
bearing arose from her unkind treatment of him, 
which, as we know, began on the very day he re- 
ceived the revelation from his father's spirit. She 
too was most unhappy : her heart was like to 

105 



106 THE TRUE STORY OF 

break at the thought that she had been compelled 
to inflict this sorrow on her lover. 

As soon as she disclosed to her father the partic- 
ulars of Hamlet's visit to her closet, Polonius at 
once determined to take her with him to the king. 

Come, go with me : I will go seek the king. 

This is the very ecstasy of love, » • ♦ » » 

Whose violent property fordoes itself 

And leads the will to desperate undertakings 

As oft as any passion under heaven 

That does afflict our natures. I am sorry. 

What, have you given him any hard words of late ? 

Oph. No, my good lord; but, as you did command, 
I did repel his letters and denied 
His access to me. 

Pol. That hath made him mad. 

I'm sorry that with better heed and judgement 
I had not quoted him : I fear'd he did but trifle, 
And meant to wreck thee ; but, beshrew my jealousy ! 
By heaven, it is as proper to our age 
To cast beyond ourselves in our opinions 
As it is common for the younger sort 
To lack discretion. Come, go we to the king: 
This must be known ; which, being kept close, might move 
More grief to hide than hate to utter love. 

vPolonius hoped to prove that love-sickness was 
the cause of Hamlet's changed behavior, and he 
hoped also that Ophelia might be required of him 
as a bride for the prince, if that should prove to be 
the physic that his case required^ This is made a 
little more evident by the First Quarto: 

Lets to the King, this madneffe may prooue, 
Though wilde a while, yet more true to thy loue. 

Ophelia apparently begged to be spared this pain- 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 107 

ful interview, and, to avoid it, gave her father the let- 
ter which he shortly afterward read to the king and 
queen. That Polonius desires his daughter in person 
to bear witness to Hamlet's love for her, is only one 
of the many touches by which Shakespeare paints 
the father's character. He was by nature shrewd, 
cautious, unscrupulous, and calculating: Claudius 
recognizes his worth as a willing instrument, when 
dirty work is to be done. Very probably the honest- 
hearted elder Hamlet despised him for his crooked- 
ness, and did not conceal his opinion : both Hamlet 
and the queen show a dislike to him from the first. 
Clandius may have been indebted to him for his 
services with the populace when Hamlet was over- 
looked and his uncle seated on his throne ; this ser- 
vice was probably the incentive to Claudius's words 
to Laertes: 

The head is not more native to the heart, 
The hand more instrumental to the mouth, 
Than is the throne of Denmark to thy father. 

and he was certainly a favorite with the populace, 
who, to avenge his death, would have made Laer- 
tes king. It is possible that the chamberlain sus- 
pected the foul play by which the throne was 
vacated, but if he did he gave his " heart a winking, 
mute and dumb," and made no sign : he was a per- 
fect courtier, and Claudius fully recognized his value. 
He went to the palace with very little doubt that if 
Hamlet preferred his suit to Ophelia, the king would 
overlook the difference in their rank and join their 
hands in marriage ; but he was very careful not to 
express this to their majesties. 



108 THE TRUE STORY OF 

While Polonius is going from his own house to 
the castle we are present at the reception of Rosen- 
crantz and Guildenstern. They had been hastily 
sent for, with the hope that as they were school- 
fellows of Hamlet, 

brought up with him, 
And sith so neighbour'd to his youth and 'haviour, 

they might draw him on to pleasures, and dis- 
cover, as the king says, 

Whether aught, to us unknown, afflicts him thus, 
That, open'd, lies within our remedy. 

The king explains the need that he had of their 

services, saying : 

Something have you heard 
Of Hamlet's transformation ; so call it, 
Sith not the exterior nor the inward man 
Resembles that it was. 

And the queen adds — 

And I beseech you instantly to visit 
My too much changed son, 

The king speaks of Hamlet's " transformation," and 
Gertrude calls him her "too much changed son"; 
only Polonius afterward speaks of Hamlet's mad- 
ness, saying : 

I do think, . . . that I have found 
The very cause of Hamlet's lunacy, 

The king in repeating this to Gertrude does not 
use Polonius's harsh word, but says : 

He tells me, my dear Gertrude, he hath found 
The head and source of all your son's distemper. 

Gertrude, having no suspicion that her son is mad, 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 109 

and knowing that it is very unlikely that Polonius 
has made a valuable discovery, replies : 

I doubt it is no other but the main ; 

His father's death, and our o'er hasty marriage. 

Neither of these causes is sufficient to dethrone 
Hamlet's reason, and neither king nor queen seems 
at this time to have considered him a lunatic. 

We must now inquire what have been Hamlet's 
occupations during the past two months, with intent 
to discover whether he has before indicated that he 
is mad. We know what his thoughts have been, 
how he alternately doubted and believed the ghost, 
but what were his actions? what did he do or re- 
frain from doing ? The first information on the 
subject comes from Polonius, and is, as we might 
expect, a little exaggerated : 

And he, repulsed — a short tale to make — 
Fell into a sadness, then into a fast, 
Thence to a watch, thence into a weakness, 
Thence to a lightness, and, by this declension, 
Into the madness whereon now he raves, 
And all we mourn for. 

This, translated into plain English, means : he was 
very sad, so sad that he would neither eat nor sleep, 
therefore he became weak and light-headed, and 
from this condition he has become mad, as is proved 
by his behavior to my daughter just now. This, 
barring the conclusion, is a true statement of facts. 
These are the conditions, with the exception of 
the last (the madness), that an able physician would 
expect in a sensitive soul indulgent of its grief and 
brooding over its unhappiness, doubting and unable 



no THE TRUE STORY OF 

to resolve its doubts. Hamlet's sensibility and his 
self-tormenting do not indicate a strong and self- 
reliant man, and critics find it hard to reconcile the 
vacillations and inconsistencies he exhibits. But 
we know that Hamlet is, in fact, only a youth, he 
has a woman's soul, we must " judge him by the 
heart and not the intellect "; all that seems ex- 
treme in him would be at once excused in a super- 
sensitive, emotional girl, because it would seem nat- 
ural in her, and we should not call it madness. 

But Hamlet did not pass all these two months in 
solitary brooding; to be sure, he tells Rosencrantz 
and Guildenstern, — 

I have of late — but wherefore I know not — lost all my mirth, 
foregone all custom of exercises, — 

but this does not mean that he has taken no exer- 
cise ; he has abandoned the exercises he was accus- 
tomed to, those probably that would bring him into 
intimate contact with the courtiers : still Polonius 
says, while unfolding his discovery to the king and 
queen : 

You know, sometimes he walks four hours together 
Here in the lobby. 

And in Act V. Scene II. Hamlet, telling Horatio 
about his skill in fencing, says : 

Since he — 
(Laertes, who departed the very day Hamlet heard 
the revelation of the ghost) 

went into France, I have been in continual practice ; I shall 
win at the odds. 

It was before Hamlet's visit to Ophelia's closet 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. in 

that the Frenchman's — Lamond's — visit to the Dan- 
ish court was paid, and at that time Hamlet had 
become so proficient with the foils that, inspired 
by the Norman's report of Laertes's skill in fencing, 
" he could nothing do but wish and beg " the 
latter's " sudden coming o'er to play with him." 
These statements show clearly that Hamlet had 
not been physically inactive; but we should be 
almost sure of it without this testimony. His 
father's command and the results which Hamlet 
expected from obedience to it, had made him hope- 
ful; and it does not appear that he secluded him- 
self, even in the first days of his fasting and watch- 
ing, — the testimony is rather against this supposi- 
tion. It is evident from the last scenes of the 
tragedy that the king and queen recognize Horatio 
as Hamlet's especial friend, and all the manifesta- 
tions on which they base this conclusion must have 
been made after the revelation of the ghost, for 
Hamlet did not know of Horatio's presence in Elsi- 
nore until the day on which the revelation was 
made. After the arrival of Rosencrantz and Guil- 
denstern, when Hamlet has chatted a little while 
with them, he does not try to excuse himself and 
escape to solitude ; he says : 

Shall we to the court ? for, by my fay, I cannot reason. 
And the entertainment of the players, and tire quick 
determination to present a play, to which the court 
should be invited, indicate that he had not with- 
drawn himself into solitude. He would have 
suffered more in separating himself entirely from 
the court life, than in sharing it : seclusion would 



ii2 THE TRUE STORY OF 

have deprived him of all opportunity to advance in 
the performance of his task. Hamlet was always 
thinking of this, and preparing himself to accom- 
plish it. His fencing was not caused by envy of 
Laertes's skill, but was pursued in anticipation of the 
hour when he might need all his strength and cun- 
ning to complete the fulfillment of the ghost's 
behest, and kill the king — his father's murderer. 
Hamlet had undoubtedly been very watchful of 
Claudius, hoping some unguarded word or act would 
furnish evidence to support the testimony of the 
apparition : he probably was informed of every- 
thing that his uncle did or said. He had kept much 
closer watch upon the king than had Claudius upon 
him; therefore when Polonius came with the report 
of his discovery, Claudius, who had not cared or 
noted what Hamlet was about, except that he 
still seemed to be unreconciled to his situation, was 
ready to believe the prince insane. He was glad to 
believe it : madness would account for Hamlet's 
" transformation," and a mad prince could not ex- 
pect to succeed to the throne of Denmark. 

I think Hamlet was never mad, and I think that 
he never feigned madness until after Pclonius 
ascribed it to him. He had charged his friends, 
should he " see fit to put an antic disposition on," 
that they should not reveal the deception; but 
Shakespeare's Hamlet probably would never have 
thought of feigning madness, had it not been set 
down in the old Hystortc, as the means adopted 
there by the young prince to prolong his life. 

Hamlet does not feign madness with that design; 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 113 

his life is not threatened until after he has done so : 
it is used by him only that he may profit by the license 
madness takes to mock and abuse its interlocutors. 
Hamlet found in it a relief from the silence he ha- 
bitually imposed on himself in the presence of any 
member of the royal circle. He could not meet and 
converse with them on any common ground, but, 
after insanity was attributed to him, he was ena- 
bled to express his opinions without being compelled 
either to justify or to retreat from his position. 

Shakespeare borrowed the expedient from the 
Hystorie, but he.took great care that Hamlet should 
never seem to the audience to be mad. He re-wrote 
and modified every speech of every personage in 
the First Quarto that might lead his hearers to 
judge that the madness was real and not assumed. 
Whenever Hamlet, for the purpose of indulging lib- 
erty of speech toward Polonius, or the king, or his 
two school-fellows, affects the license madness gives, 
if it is not palpable to the audience that the madness 
is only assumed, Shakespeare makes his hero, by 
some speech like " these tedious old fools," or "they 
fool me to the top of my bent," indicate that he is 
only covered with a mantle that he can drop as soon 
as the need for its use is past. Every outbreak that 
might make us conclude his mind was really diseased 
is followed, at once, by a conversation or a soliliquy 
in which he shows more than the acuteness and the 
mental balance of an average mortal. The king and 
Polonius, however, are not in Shakespeare's confi- 
dence ; therefore, when the councilor asserts that 
Hamlet is mad, and produces what he considers 



ii4 THE TRUE STORY OF 

proof, Claudius, who would much rather believe 
Hamlet incapable of making inquiries into the par- 
ticulars of his father's death, than that 

There's something in his soul, 

O'er which his melancholy sits on brood, 

gladly accepts it as the truth, and asks : 
How may we try it further ? 

Polonius, desiring at any sacrifice of his own or his 
daughter's delicacy, to secure Hamlet as a son-in-law, 
even though he be mad, suggests that a meeting be 
contrived between his daughter and the prince, of 
which the king and he shall be hidden witnesses ; this 
Claudius assents to, but elaboration of the plan is 
prevented by Hamlet's approach. Gertrude first per- 
ceives him and says : 

But, look, where sadly the poor wretch comes reading. 

This is one of Shakespeare's delicious little 
touches the subtlety of which often escapes us. The 
prince, who has just been represented as a raving 
lunatic, slips quietly into our presence lost in the 
perusal of his book. This master-stroke we may be 
sure was purposely introduced to point out the con- 
trast between Hamlet's reported and his actual con- 
dition. We had not seen him since the night of his 
wild interview with the ghost, and it was necessary 
that we should have testimony on which to believe or 
disbelieve Polonius's astounding proposition. His 
quiet, unostentatious approach convinces us that 
his interview with Ophelia an hour before can be 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 115 

attributed to some other cause than madness; but 
Polonius, impatient to prove what he so much de- 
sires, but which as yet rests only on his daughter's 
report, requests their majesties to withdraw and let 
him meet the prince alone. 



r 



x. 



We know that Hamlet decided, when he forced 
his way into Ophelia's presence and perused her 
countenance, that he must cast her out of his life, 
even though he might not be able at once to remove 
her from his heart. Hamlet dearly loved Ophelia, 
and he had believed that she loved him. ) Reflection 
on her bearing during the morning's interview re- 
newed his belief in her affection, and, searching for 
the reason that had induced her for two months to 
seclude herself from him, he concluded that she had 
done so only in obedience to her father's commands. 
Further reflection convinced him that these com- 
mands had been given wholly with the view of forc- 
ing from him a demand for the maiden's hand in 
marriage. This request he has now determined 
never to make, and from this decision he never again 
wavers. 

We are nowhere expressly told that Hamlet knew 
what Polonius had been hoping, but he was quick 
of apprehension, shrewd, and even worldly wise, and 
we must infer this, and nothing else, from the con- 
versation that ensued between them. It indicates 
to us very plainly that Hamlet wishes to inform the 
chamberlain that he prefers no suit to Ophelia, and 
so Polonius would have understood it had he not 
been blinded by his preconceived ideas. 

116 



(u k (9^-y I £ ^ 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 117 

Pol. O, give me leave : 

How does my good lord Hamlet ? 

Ham. Well, God-a-mercy. 

Pol. Do you know me, my lord ? 

Ham. Excellent well ; you are a fishmonger. 

Pol. Not I, my lord. 

Ham. Then I would you were so honest a man. 

Pol. Honest, my lord ! 

Ham. Ay, sir ; to be honest, as this world goes, is to be one 
man picked out of ten thousand. 

Pol. That's very true, my lord. 

Ham. For if the sun breed maggots in a dead dog, being a 
god * kissing carrion, — Have you a daughter ? 

Pol. I have, my lord. 

Ham. Let her not walk i* the sun : conception is a blessing; 
but not as your daughter may conceive. Friend, look to't. 

Pol. [Aside.] How say you by that ? Still harping on my 
daughter ; yet he knew me not at first ; he said I was a fish- 
monger : he is far gone, far gone : and truly in my youth I 
suffered much extremity for love ; very near this. I'll speak to 
him again, What do you read, my lord. 

Ham. Words, words, words. 

Hamlet knew, as well as we do, that measured by 
the rule and square of the proprieties, his visit to 
Ophelia's chamber was an unpardonable liberty. 
He feels assured that the maiden has already told 
her father of the occurrence, and when he first per- 

* To be consistent I make this quotation as it is given in the 
Globe Shakespeare, from which I have made all others, but ref- 
erence to the Quartos and Folio will show that Shakespeare 
wrote "good," — good kissing carrion. Good is the word he 
employed and most editors retain it. Warburton first made the 
change from good to god, and advanced a long argument to 
sustain it, and Johnson, in approving it, said, "This is a noble 
emendation, which almost sets the critic on a level with the 
author." 



n8 THE TRUE STORY OF 

ceives the old chamberlain he is not sure what will 
be his action under the circumstances ; he believes 
that, with justice, he will be incensed ; but Polonius's 
first question, " How does my good lord Hamlet ?" 
shows that the old courtier does not mean to mani- 
fest displeasure, or to abandon his design to unite 
his daughter and the prince. His second question, 
"Do you know me, my lord?" indicates, to Ham- 
let's quick discernment, that Polonius attributes his 
condition of disorder, a few hours before, to mad- 
ness. " Do you know me, my lord ? " — a question 
to be asked only of a madman or a fool. Quick as 
thought Hamlet sees the old man's mistake, and de- 
termines to humor it. He had no fear of the con- 
sequences ; he had already seen himself indulged in 
the exhibition of an extreme sadness and melan- 
choly, which, under the circumstances, must have 
been intensely irritating to king Claudius, and he 
believed that by an exaggeration of his bearing he 
could secure still further indulgence. Therefore, 
when he heard the question, " Do you know me, my 
lord ?", showing so plainly what Polonius was think- 
ing, Hamlet answered, looking him straight in the 
eye, to observe whether the shot told, " Excellent 
well ; you are a fishmonger." Many far-fetched 
explanations of the meaning of this answer have 
been made, but the spirit of the reply is plain. 
Hamlet meant that Polonius was making merchan- 
dise of his daughter, desiring to secure a husband 
for her; Hamlet said fishmonger, because fish must 
be disposed of immediately, or they become worth- 
less. When he sees that Polonius attributes this 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 119 

reply to madness, taking the term literally, and not 
seeing the application of it, he says, " I would you 
were so honest a man," and the thought in his mind 
is, ' A fishmonger cries his wares publicly and tries 
to dispose of them, knowing that purchasers appre- 
ciate their perishable nature ; you are trying to dis- 
pose of Ophelia, and you conceal your thoughts 
about her ; you do not intimate that you consider 
her virtue vulnerable by me, although you have 
already manifested it, by shutting her away from 
my society.' Hamlet's succeeding speech is al- 
most brutal, uttered, as it is, to a father about his 
daughter; but Hamlet felt that he was justified in 
making it by his knowledge of Ophelia's dispo- 
sition, and by Polonius's efforts to secure him for a 
son-in-law. Still, when the speech was on his lips, 
he hesitated, and involved his meaning, so that it 
not only puzzled Polonius then, but has puzzled 
the host of commentators on the passage ever 
since. 

The'speech has no counterpart in the First Quarto. 
The only difference of the First Folio from the 
Second Quarto is in the spelling, and the use of a 
dash instead of a period in punctuating. In the 
Folio, the passage stands thus : 

Ham. For if the Sun breed Magots in a dead dcgge, being 
a good kissing Carrion — 
Have you a daughter? 
Pol. I have my lord. 
Ham. Let her not walke i' th' Sunne : 

Conception is a blessing, but not as your daughter may 
conceive. Friend looke too 't. 



120 THE TRUE STORY OF 

In The Merry Wives of Windsor, Act III. Sc. III. 
205, is this line : 

Shall we send that foolish carrion, Mistress Quickly, to him ? 

In Julius Ccesar, Act II. Sc. I. 129, we find: 

Swear priests and cowards and men cautelous, 
Old feeble carrions and such suffering souls. 

In Romeo and Juliet, Act III. Sc. V. 157, Capulet, 
abusing Juliet because she wishes not to marry 
Paris, cries : 

Out, you green-sickness carrion ! out, you baggage ! 
You tallow-face ! 

JoJinsons Dictionary defines carrion as " a name 
of reproach for a worthless woman." This is the 
sense in which Hamlet used the word : it is a term 
of opprobrium, a name of reproach, and, if his heart 
had not failed him when he used it, so that he felt 
compelled to interrupt himself with a question that 
required no answer: 

Have you a daughter ? 

there would have been no misunderstanding of the 
phrase. Good kissing Carrion Hamlet used in 
the sense, good to kiss ; as we say ■* good looking," 
meaning " good to look at " ; and " good eating," 
"good to be eaten." The For referred to his 
preceding thought about Ophelia's virtue, and con- 
nected it with the dead dog that invited the kiss 
of the sun. Suppose we read the speech as Hamlet 
meant to utter it ; 

For if the sun breed maggots in a dead dog, being a good 
kissing carrion, let your daughter not walk in the sun : concep- 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 121 

tion is a blessing, but not as your daughter may conceive. 
Friend, look to it. 

This we may paraphrase to make the meaning per- 
fectly clear: 

For if the sun breed maggots in a dead dog, let your daughter 
not walk in the sun ; she, being a good kissing carrion (or 
baggage), may be corrupted you know not how : conception is 
a blessing, but not as your daughter may conceive. Friend, 
look to it. 

There is no play upon words in the passage ; it 
is a harsh statement of what Hamlet believed to be 
the truth — that is, that Ophelia was of a disposition 
that could not resist temptation ; but Polonius did 
not understand it so, or if he did he ascribed the 
censure to madness. He speaks up sharply as 
Hamlet finishes his speech, and says : 

How say you by that ? 

meaning, "What do you mean by that?" This is 
not given as an aside, in any of the early editions ; 
it is an alarmed inquiry that the father directs to 
Hamlet, but, without waiting for an explanation, he 
instantly soothes his own fear to sleep with the 
words : 

Still harping on my daughter : yet he knew me not at first ; 
he said I was a fishmonger: he is far gone, far gone. 

Throughout this conversation, which we need not 
follow further, Hamlet continually flouts Polonius 
and gives him equivocal answers, and at the end 
of the interview, as the lord chamberlain leaves 
him, the prince, to make clear to the audience, who 
have not seen him since that night two months 



122 HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 

before when he had departed from their sight in 
such perturbation of spirit, that he has only been 
assuming madness, exclaims : 

These tedious old fools! 

Polonius does not know exactly what to think ; 
he almost fears his sagacity has been at fault : he 
believes that Hamlet is mad, yet some of his re- 
plies are so apt that he is driven to the reflection : 

Though this be madness, yet there is method in't. 

With his usual perspicacity he thinks the very 
pertinence and fulness of meaning in Hamlet's re- 
marks are a proof that he must be mad. He says : 

How pregnant sometimes his replies are ! a happiness that 
often madness hits on, which reason and sanity could not so 
prosperously be delivered of. 

In other words — a sane man cannot appear so sane 
as an insane one. This is a fair specimen of Polo- 
nius's wisdom. 

The audience understand Hamlet's meaning in 
the foregoing conversation, if Polonius does not. 
They remember his answer to the question And 
shall I couple ? and know that his words have 
reference to his design to renounce Ophelia. Stu- 
dents ought to realize that the fact of his holding 
this conversation, and expressing to Polonius his 
judgment of Ophelia before the mock-play has ab- 
solutely convinced him that the story of the ghost 
is true, is a proof that Hamlet was not a laggard, or 
irresolutely incapable to execute his task when the 
hour for doing so should arrive. 



XL 



At the close of the interview between Hamlet and 
Polonius, as the lord chamberlain takes his leave, 
Rosencrantz and Guildenstern enter and are directed 
by him to the prince, — a very meddlesome, unnec- 
essary direction, as they are already in his presence, 
but we all think we can speak before a sick or an in- 
sane person without being noticed or understood. 

Hamlet receives his two friends with cordiality 
and affection, with almost the same affection he 
had displayed to Horatio. They were his play- 
fellows, brought up with him from youth to man- 
hood, intimately known to his dead father, and 
Hamlet believes that loving remembrance has 
brought them to his side, as it had brought his 
other friend. He expects from them sorrow for his 
loss, and sympathy with his grief, but he jokes with 
them as young men do joke, and then tells them that 
he is most unhappy, that Denmark is a prison, that 
he has bad dreams. It is evident that he is ready 
to unbosom himself to his dearly loved companions, 
but he does not force the conversation back to the 
consideration of his sorrow when they speak about 
the players, but questions them, instead, with in- 
terest and great intelligence, as to the condition of 
the stage in the city, why the players travel, and 

so on. Hamlet manifests no madness during the 

123 



i2 4 THE TRUE STORY OF 

whole conversation, nor does he show any incohe- 
rence or inconsequence ; he exhibits only practical 
good sense, and he is on the point of confiding to 
his school-fellows some of the causes of his dis- 
content with his surroundings, when he is inter- 
rupted by the re-entrance of Polonius, who comes 
meaning to announce the arrival of the players. 
Hamlet, seeing him before he has approached very 
close, checks himself, and changes the conversation, 
saying: 

Hark you, Guildenstern ; and you too : at each ear a hearer : 
that great baby you see there is not yet out of his swaddling 
clouts. 

Ros. Happily he's the second time come to them ; for they 
say an old man is twice a child. 

Ham. I will prophesy he comes to tell me of the players ; 
mark it. 

All this is said so low that Polonius does not hear 
it, but, as he comes nearer, Hamlet, raising his 
voice so that it may be audible to him, continues as 
if he was finishing something he had been telling 
his friends in their ear: 

You say right, sir: o' Monday morning; 'twas so indeed. 

This bore no reference to anything they had been 
speaking of, and was uttered only to deceive Polo- 
nius and lead him to believe their talk had been on 
indifferent subjects. But Hamlet was not content 
with this. He probably disliked the lord chamber- 
lain before the late king's death ; he knows that Po- 
lonius was instrumental in depriving him of his in- 
heritance, he knows that he has interfered to keep 
Ophelia from him, he knows that he believes him 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 125 

mad, and, recalling the fact that, a few moments be- 
fore, he had found Polonius in close conversation 
with the king and queen, who retired on his ap- 
proach, he now suspects that he has aimed a further 
blow at him by representing to their majesties that 
his reason is dethroned. Hamlet does not fear the 
result of this imputation, he even sees that it may 
be useful to him, but, instinctively, he resents the 
knowledge that Polonius has it in his power to make 
him seem ridiculous, and he revenges this upon the 
old councilor by making him a butt for ridicule, 
and rejoices because, in so doing, he confirms him in 
a belief in his insanity. He will scarcely listen when 
Polonius tries to tell him of the actors' coming ; he 
gibes the old man unmercifully, and, from this time 
forth, seems unable to refrain from doing so when- 
ever he encounters him. Polonius has become to 
Hamlet what the red cloak is to the bull — wherever 
he sees it he charges on it. Even in the presence 
of the players he ridicules him, though he takes the 
pains to tell them that they must not allow them- 
selves the same liberty. 

As Polonius is indissolubly connected in Hamlet's 
mind with his lost love, his bantering words are 
suggested a second time on this same day by the re- 
membrance of Ophelia : instead of replying to her 
father's encomiums of the players, he breaks in upon 
their praises with the words : 

O Jephthah, judge of Israel, what a treasure hadst thou ! 
Pol. What treasure had he, my lord ? 
Ham. Why, 

' One fair daughter, and no more, 
The which he loved passing well.' 



126 THE TRUE STORY OF 

These lines were quoted from an old ballad well 
known to Shakespeare's audiences. Had the poet a 
subtle design in selecting them ? Did he mean to 
suggest that there was a further parallel in Hamlet's 
mind when he saluted Polonius as " Jephthah, judge 
of Israel " ? Did he wish them to remember that 
the daughter of Jephthah retired to the wilderness 
to bewail her virginity? Hamlet might have recited 
the whole ballad with personal applications, had he 
not been interrupted by the entrance of the players. 
He received them with a flattering welcome, and at 
once required the First Player to repeat a speech 
that he had heard before which pictures the grief of 
Hecuba at the death of Priam. By this recitation 
the Player is so moved that tears rise to his eyes, 
and he grows pale, and Hamlet, seeing his agitation, 
conceives a plan by which he can convince himself 
whether the apparition he has seen was really his 
father's spirit, or an emissary of the devil. He ar- 
ranges for the presentation of a play the following 
night, and demands of the First Player, when the 
other actors have left his presence, whether he could 
play The Murder of Gonzago and insert in it a speech 
of some dozen or sixteen lines which he should set 
down for him. When he is left alone his Third So- 
liloquy informs us why he asked these questions, 
and what his project is. He says : 

I have heard 
That guilty creatures sitting at a play 
Have by the very cunning of the scene 
Been struck so to the soul that presently 
They have proclaim'd their malefactions ; 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 127 

For murder, though it have no tongue, will speak 

With most miraculous organ. I'll have these players 

Play something like the murder of my father 

Before mine uncle : I'll observe his looks; 

I'll tent him to the quick : if he but blench. 

I know my course. The spirit that I have seen 

May be the devil : and the devil hath power 

To assume a pleasing shape ; yea, and perhaps 

Out of my weakness and my melancholy, 

As he is very potent with such spirits, 

Abuses me to damn me : I'll have grounds 

More relative than this : the play's the thing 

Wherein I'll catch the conscience of the king. 

On beginning this soliloquy, which closes the 
second act, Hamlet is most bitter in his self-abuse : 
he contrasts the tender-heartedness of the Player, 
who shed tears at the mere recital of imaginary 
woes, with his own callousness and inaction under 
an incentive so much greater: he displays the 
natural exaggeration of invective that we employ 
against ourselves, and sometimes against our most 
valued friends, but the very fact that he reviles and 
blames himself for a necessary delay in the execution 
of what he, even yet, is not sure was his father's com- 
mand, convinces his hearers that when once he is 
assured the ghost is reliable he will quickly find out 
a means to disenchant the queen, and to kill her 
seducer. 

Hamlet arrests himself in his torrent of self-abuse 
with words that are, I think, generally misunder- 
stood : 

About, my brain ! 

It is considered that these words are equivalent to 
To work, my brain ! 



128 THE TRUE STORY OF 

and the succeeding words, " I have heard, etc.," are 
supposed to express the plan that the brain, 
by its working, evolves. This is not so ; the plan 
was conceived in all its details, while the Player 
was describing Hecuba's imaginary sorrow, and 
Hamlet had already arranged, before he spoke the 
thought aloud, that the next night The Murder of 
Gonzago, with some pertinent inserted lines, should 
be played before his uncle. " About, my brain!" 
means, ' Turn about, my brain ! do not consider my 
remissness any longer. I have now arranged a trap 
that shall catch my uncle if he be guilty.' It is 
the same kind of speech as that with which he inter- 
rupts himself the next night in his assertion of 
friendship for Horatio : 

Something too much of this. 
Hamlet knows that when he is alone, or with a 
trusted friend, he indulges in too much speech in 
the reaction from his usual taciturnity. 

In the Third Soliloquy although Hamlet expresses 
great dissatisfaction with himself — dissatisfaction 
which I think is not justified — yet he utters noth- 
ing that can be ascribed to loss of mental power. 
How is it possible to believe that he alternates 
from reason to unreason? We know that lunatics 
in the presence of their keepers have the art and 
self-control to hide the manifestations of their in- 
sanity, but Hamlet seems to hide them most when 
he is absolutely alone. 

The act which we have just considered represents, 
in its two scenes, the occurrences of one day at the 
Danish court — the first day of the Second Period. 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 129 

We must remember that this day is two months 
after the revelation of the ghost. The revelation 
of the ghost is so often alluded to because it was 
the inspiration of all Hamlet's acts. The incidents 
of the day, which I wish to recall, even though 
to do so be tedious, are these : Early in the morn- 
ing Hamlet forces his way into Ophelia's chamber; 
his bearing convinces Ophelia, and Polonius to 
whom she relates the circumstances of the visit, 
that he is mad ; Polonius hastens to tell the king ; 
Rosencrantz and Guildenstern arrive ; the ambas- 
sadors who were sent to Norway make their report ; 
Polonius imparts his discovery to the king and 
queen, and Claudius, on his suggestion, agrees that 
Ophelia shall meet Hamlet where the king and 
Polonius can overhear their talk ; Hamlet ap- 
proaches, and, by a conversation in which he indi- 
cates to the audience that he is still determined to 
renounce Ophelia, confirms Polonius in the belief 
that he is mad ; Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are 
affectionately received by Hamlet, and are inter- 
rupted in their conversation with him by the en- 
trance of Polonius and the players ; Hamlet de- 
sires the recitation of a speech he had once heard, 
and the emotion of the Player while declaiming it 
suggests a means by which he may entrap the 
king's conscience and determine whether or not the 
ghost had spoken sooth ; he arranges that a play 
shall be acted before his uncle in which some 
lines of his own composition shall be inserted ; and 
finally, in the Third Soliloquy, after a torrent of 
self-abuse, he plainly expresses the reason why he 



130 HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 

has remained so long inactive ; — namely, the fear 
that the spirit he has seen may be the devil, and 
not his honored father, has constrained him to wait 
for proof. 

All these are the occurrences of one day — the day 
on which Rosencrantz and Guildenstern arrive at 
court. It is hard to realize that the next night 
they leave Elsinore forever, going with Hamlet to 
their death in England. We get the impression 
that they were a long time at the Danish court, and 
had formed their opinion as to Hamlet's madness 
from many and varied interviews with him. In no 
play is there more need to discriminate the time- 
keeping of Shakespeare's two clocks — as Christo- 
pher North expresses it — than in this. 



XII. 

The first scene of the third act introduces the 
king and queen, Polonius and Ophelia, and Rosen- 
crantz and Guildenstern, who are making their first 
report, on the morning after their arrival. 

The relations of Hamlet and his two school-fellows 
are, I think, generally misunderstood ; the scene of 
their meeting in the preceding act is misrepresented. 
This misunderstanding exists because we do not 
inquire what Shakespeare meant, but accept the 
interpretation this or that commentator or actor 
puts upon his lines. In the whole interview I do 
not find a word to indicate that Hamlet distrusted 
or suspected Rosencrantz and Guildenstern at their 
first meeting ; indeed, all the testimony opposes 
this idea. It will be said that Hamlet's aside : 

Nay, then, I have an eye of you, 
indicates that he suspected them, and I might agree to 
this if I felt sure that Shakespeare meant these words 
to be said " aside," but there is no such direction in 
any of the early editions. Steevens first inserted it, 
but it is not in the Quartos or the Folio, and these 
are the legitimate sources of the play. I think these 
words should be spoken openly, in a frank and 
cheery tone; the context indicates this. Hamlet 
believed the king and queen had sent for his two 

131 



132 THE TRUE STORY OF 

friends, and he wanted to help them to the confes- 
sion that this was so. While he would have pre- 
ferred to have them come from pure love of him, as 
Horatio had done, he did not suspect their friendli- 
ness because their visit was made on the solicitation 
of his mother. He had been, and still was, unhappy 
and ill — transformed from his former self, and it 
did not grieve or displease him to know that his 
friends had been sent for to cheer him, but he did 
want to know what they had been told respecting 
his condition. Until that morning — the morning of 
their coming — there had existed no suspicion that 
he was mad. Polonius had conceived the idea only 
a few hours before, and had communicated it to the 
king and queen. Hamlet had seen the three in 
close conversation, and had seen their majesties 
disappear as he approached, and, when he discovered 
that Polonius supposed him mad, and, for that 
reason, excused his conduct to Ophelia, he felt 
assured that the old councilor had made the king 
and queen partakers of his secret, and he thought 
it possible that they, in turn, might have told 
Guildenstern and Rosencrantz that their son's mind 
was diseased. He wanted to discover if this was 
so ; he meant to confide in his friends and laugh 
with them at the idea, and he afterward introduced 
the subject with this design, but was interrupted by 
the entrance of Polonius: and it was Hamlet's rec- 
ognition of Polonius's foolishness in judging him 
insane that inspired his words to his friends : 

That great baby you see there is not yet out of his swad- 
clling-clouts. 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 133 

When Hamlet asked his two school-fellows : 

But, in the beaten way of friendship what make you at 
Elsinore? 

he felt no suspicion of their integrity ; he had thrice 
asked Horatio the same question : 

And what make you from Wittenberg, Horatio ? 
But what, in faith, make you from Wittenberg ? 
and, 

But what is your affair in Elsinore ? 

Hamlet believes that loving remembrance has 
brought his play-fellows to court, but he also sus- 
pects that they were invited to come, and therefore 
he asks the triple question : 

Were you not sent for ? Is it your own inclining? Is it a 
free visitation ? 

The question is thrice repeated because they do 
not reply promptly to his first inquiry. He knows 
that his mother is grieving over the change in his 
conduct and disposition, and is not surprised at her 
sending for his two friends ; he realizes that they 
may not like to confess that they were prompted 
. to their visit ; he even thinks it possible that they 
have been bound to secrecy; and he continues his 
questioning, but without any suspicion that their 
regard for him is not as warm and strong as his for 
them. 

But let me conjure you, by the rights of our fellowship, by 
the consonancy of our youth, by the obligation of our ever-pre- 
served love, and by what more dear a better proposer could 
charge you withal, be even and direct with me, whether you 
were sent for, or no. 



134 THE TRUE STORY OF 

Is it possible to believe that this beautiful adju- 
ration was used by Hamlet as a cover to his 
thoughts, and that he knew their " ever-preserved 
love " was even then a thing of the past ? No ! 
Hamlet used this language in all sincerity, desiring 
only to make it easy for his friends to confess that 
they were sent for. The false friends were young 
men, unschooled in deceit and concealment, and, 
responsive to this earnest appeal, each sought from 
the other's face permission to make Hamlet par- 
taker of the knowledge they possessed. Seeing the 
interchange of glances, noting Rosencrantz's ques- 
tion, " What say you ? " to encourage them to frank- 
ness, Hamlet exclaims: 

Nay, then, I have an eye of you, — [I see your confusion ;] 
If you love me, hold not off. 

And, in response, Guildenstern admits: 

My lord, we were sent for. 
Hamlet knew that thus to betray a confidence 
reposed in them by their sovereigns was no slight 
proof of friendship, and he accepted this admission 
as an earnest of his school-fellows' love, and fore- 
stalled their further confession - by himself telling' 
them why they had been summoned. He would 
have told them more if the current of his. thoughts 
had not been altered by the news of the players' 
approach. If Hamlet had suspected his school- 
fellows of being spies upon him he would never 
have said : 

My uncle-father and aunt-mother are deceived. ... I am 
but mad north-north-west : when the wind is southerly I know 
a hawk from a handsaw. 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 135 

Nor would he have arranged, in their presence, for 
the insertion, by the players, of any lines in The 
Murder of Gonzago ; neither would he, in parting 
from them, have said, — 

My good friends, I'll leave you till night : you are welcome to 
Elsinore. 

Actors make Hamlet hesitate at the word friends, 
and finally pronounce it as though it were an iron- 
ical appellation, and this constrains them to omit 
11 You are welcome to Elsinore." Hamlet would 
not have uttered these words if he had not meant 
them — nowhere does he conceal his feelings by 
falsehood, and Shakespeare would have omitted 
them if he had not thought them essential. Actors 
make Hamlet treat the two courtiers with marked 
rudeness, his tongue is tipped with sarcasms, and he 
shows more civility to the players than to them. If 
Hamlet had received and entertained his friends as 
actors represent, is it possible that Rosencrantz and 
Guildenstern would not have described this beha- 
vior to the king and queen next morning ? What 
they do say is this : 

King. And can you, by no drift of circumstance, 

Get from him why he puts on this confusion, 

Grating so harshly all his days of quiet 

With turbulent and dangerous lunacy ? 
Ros. He does confess he feels himself distracted; 

But from what cause he will by no means speak, 
Guil. Nor do we find him forward to be sounded, 

But, with a crafty madness, keeps aloof, 

When we would bring him on to some confession 

Of his true state. 
Queen. Did he receive you well ? 



136 THE TRUE STORY OF 

Ros. Most like a gentleman. 
Guil. But with much forcing of his disposition. 
Ros. Niggard of question; but, of our demands, 
Most free in his reply. 

This report proves that Rosencrantz and Guilden- 
stern have seen and talked with Hamlet a second 
time, because, in the first conversation, of which we 
were hearers, the prince did not " put on this confu- 
sion," or " confess himself distracted "; nor did his 
school-fellows try to " bring him on to some con- 
fession of his true state." After parting from them 
in the morning Hamlet probably reflected that his 
friends had expressed no sorrow for the necessity 
which induced the sending for them, and no sym- 
pathy with his unhappiness, and this reflection pre- 
pared his mind for a just judgment of them in their 
second interview, which he had appointed for the 
evening—" I'll leave you till night." Of this inter- 
view Shakespeare gives us no record, but we can in- 
fer its nature from the report of it I have just 
quoted, and we must conclude that at this second 
meeting Hamlet began to suspect the two spies, and 
that, the doubt of their integrity once born, it grew* 
apace, until at the end of the next twenty-four hours 
it ripened into open repudiation and defiance. 

It may be objected that unless Hamlet, in an in- 
terview of which we are witnesses, manifests his dis- 
trust of his friends, the change in his bearing toward 
them when we next see them together will be too 
abrupt — not to be accounted for. To understand 
the Tragedy of Hamlet, we must study it from the 
text as Shakespeare wrote it, not from the modern 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 137 

actor's rendering of it. We shall find that it is a play 
in which results are presented, not processes. We 
see the results of certain thoughts and actions, but 
we must infer from the results, and from our knowl- 
edge of character, what these thoughts and actions 
have been. Vphus Hamlet renounces Ophelia, but 
we are not told by what process of reasoning he 
made the decision to do so. Ophelia dies insane, 
but we do not know madness is impending until we 
see her absolutely deprived of reason : then we 
judge that the loss of her father and of her lover has 
destroyed her minaj) Laertes appears suddenly in 
Denmark, two months after his father's death. We 
do not know he is coming, but when we see him we 
instantly recognize that Ophelia's summons has 
brought him thither. In the same way Shakespeare, 
in the scene of the mock-play, shows us that Ham- 
let distrusts his two school-fellows, and we know 
that he has ground for doing so, although we have 
not been shown the very manifestations of their 
treachery that have enlightened him. The report 
made by the two spies should assure the audience 
how thoroughly they are the creatures of the king. 
Taking their cue from him, in the teeth of opposing 
testimony, they seem convinced of Hamlet's " crafty 
madness," and speak of it openly in the presence of 
Polonius and Ophelia. To be sure they have ob- 
served the frivolity and impertinence of the prince's 
behavior to the lord chamberlain, but they know 
this bearing was assumed, even though they may 
not have known the reason why, and this, there- 
fore, gave them no excuse for believing what Clau- 



138 HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 

dius pretended to credit, — that Hamlet was really 
mad. 

The question has been raised whether Rosen- 
crantz and Guildenstern deserved the death that 
Hamlet sent them to. I think the report they 
made to the king answers this question. There is 
no proof that they knew the contents of the com- 
mission Claudius sent by them to England, but 
there is also no proof that, had they known them, 
they would have refused to carry it; and their ready 
acceptance of Claudius's dictum, that Hamlet was a 
dangerous lunatic, shows they were the king's in- 
struments, and that he could use them for any 
office in their capacity to perform. 



XIII. 

In making their report, in their anxiety to please 
the king, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern did not 
notice that Gertrude had not assented to the sug- 
gestion that her son was mad ; but her silence and 
curt questions indicate plainly that Claudius's belief 
displeases her. She does not think Hamlet is 
insane, and she suggests this by her two questions: 

Did he receive you well ? 
and, 

Did you assay him to any pastime ? 

These questions interrupt the flow of their con- 
versation, and suggest that she is judging her son 
from a totally different point of view from theirs. 
When Claudius asks her to withdraw, so that he 
and Polonius alone may listen to Hamlet's coming 
encounter with Ophelia, she coldly answers : 

I shall obey you. 

To Polonius, during all this scene, she does not 
speak a word. She does not wish to lend her 
countenance to the plan he and the king have 
formed ; she still believes that " his father's death " 
and her " o'er hasty marriage " are cause enough for 
all the altered bearing that Hamlet has displayed ; 
but she is courteous to Ophelia, and exempts her 
from the displeasure she exhibits toward the others. 

139 



i 4 o THE TRUE STORY OF 

She knows that the maiden loves her son, and is 
doing now only what filial obedience constrains her 
to, and she parts from her with the words : 

And for your part, Ophelia, I do wish 

That your good beauties be the happy cause 

Of Hamlet's wildness : so shall I hope your virtues 

Will bring him to his wonted way again, 

To both your honours. 

This is the first avowal Polonius has received that 
Hamlet's suit to Ophelia, if he shall press it, will be 
allowed. He is delighted, and instantly begins to 
place his daughter, and bestow himself and Clau- 
dius, so that they may witness the coming inter- 
view without themselves being seen. Ophelia's 
reply to the parting words of the queen enable us 
to judge with what feelings she is going to this 
interview. There is a dignity in their simplicity 
that touches us : 

Madam, I wish it may. 
She has forgotten the ceremony that hedges a 
queen : to her, at that moment, Gertrude is only the 
mother of her love: this is her highest title. They 
are two women whose hearts meet on one object, 
and whose dearest hope is the happiness and well- 
being of the prince. The very lack of grammatical 
accord with Gertrude's preceding words shows how 
indifferent Ophelia is to her immediate surround- 
ings. The brevity of her reply, which gives no ex- 
cuse for the wish, no explanation of what she hopes 
may result from the interview, shows how fully her 
heart is possessed by it. 

Madam, I wish it may. 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 141 

She wishes it so absolutely, so intensely, that the 
fewest, simplest words are used to express her 
longing. A single syllable added would weaken the 
force of her re-ply; protestation or amplification 
would only lessen our belief in the maiden's love. 
Polonius gives her a book — a book of devotion — 
and she takes it without a word. She does not per- 
form any of the ceremonies of politeness ; with her 
hand upon her heart to control its tumult she waits 
only for the coming of the prince ; her mind is so 
projected into the coming interview, from which she 
hopes so much, that she forgets she is the companion 
of her king in a plot against her lover. She has not 
sought the interview, it has been forced upon her; a 
maiden less pliant would have avoided such a meet- 
ing; but Ophelia is happy in the knowledge that her 
father's command no longer exiles Hamlet from her 
presence, and she hopes by tender indications of her 
continued affection to restore him to mental health. 
She believes that madness animated him the day 
before, when he so rudely sought and left her pres- 
ence without a word, but she feels no fear; she 
thinks her separation from him has been the cause 
of all his changed behavior; and she believes that, 
the cause removed, the effect will also disappear. 
These are her thoughts as Hamlet approaches. 
Poor maid ! how horribly are they disproved and 
disarranged on his departure. When he enters the 
lobby she is not praying, though she appears to do 
so ; she observes him with the eye of her soul, 
though her gaze seems fixed upon her book. She 
cannot speak till he has noticed her, she could not 



142 THE TRUE STORY OF 

speak even if she would ; her heart has left her breast 
and tries to reach her lips ; its beating prevents the 
use of speech ; and Hamlet's long soliloquy gives 
her no more than time to recover command of her 
wavering courage and faltering tongue. 

Claudius had sent for Hamlet to come to the 
lobby to meet him ; and the prince, when he reaches 
the appointed place, glances carelessly around ex- 
pecting to see his uncle. In his absence he con- 
tinues the thoughts with which he was occupied 
when the summons reached him ; he deliberates upon 
the new plan he has conceived by which he can sat- 
isfy himself as to his uncle's guilt or innocence ; and 
he expresses his deliberations in speech. 

Hamlet is more hopeful now than he has been 
since his mother's second marriage. When that was 
celebrated he was plunged into profound grief, for 
which he did not see any prospect of alleviation. 
His sorrow for his lost father he thought would en- 
dure forever, as would his disgust at his mother's 
inconstancy and abandonment of her son's claim to 
the crown. Her action had cut him off from his 
rightful succession until after his uncle's death. By 
her union with Claudius she had sanctioned the 
means by which he had obtained the throne, and 
Hamlet did not, at that time, think of trying to de- 
pose his uncle. Obedience to authority was Ham- 
let's controlling principle; and he submitted to the re- 
sult of his mother's inconstancy, because she was his 
mother. Filial obedience did not, however, remove 
his cause for sorrow ; and on his first appearance in 
the play we saw Hamlet wishing — as unhappy 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 143 

youth so often wishes — that death would end his 
misery, and rebellious because the Almighty had 
" fix'd his canon 'gainst self-slaughter." This rebel- 
lion of spirit did not even then tempt him to diso- 
bey his Heavenly Father's command, and since that 
sad day — the second day of the play — his situation 
has changed and he is now content to live : he no 
longer believes that a waste of years separates him 
from the throne. His father, whose claim on his 
obedience supersedes his mother's, has come from 
the grave and commanded him to kill his uncle. 

With this command Hope woke in Hamlet's heart, 
and Ambition and Revenge. These three spirits 
have been his companions for two months. They 
have not led him any nearer to his goal, but their, 
presence has cheered and encouraged him. Doubt 
has assailed him from time to time as to the identity 
of the apparition, and he has convinced himself that 
the apparition was his father's only to doubt again 
when he reflected on the grossness of the revelations 
it had made. But he had at last, only the day be- 
fore, contrived a means to exorcise this demon for- 
ever, and the knowledge that he possesses this 
power renders him calm and comparatively happy 
while he waits for the hour to come in which he 
shall work the spell. He knows that the mock-play, 
whenever he presents it, will convince him of his 
uncle's guilt or innocence, but he is not absolutely 
certain that the time is ripe for its exhibition. Since 
he conceived the plan he has reflected on the ulti- 
mate results of the experiment. He fears that it 
will force immediate action on him if the king be 



144 THE TRUE STORY OF 

guilty; for if the mock-play convinces Hamlet that 
the ghost is trustworthy, it will also reveal to the 
king that Hamlet knows his secret ; and Claudius 
will lose no time in silencing him forever, unless he, 
by more speedy action, prevents it. Hamlet reflects 
that if he kill the king before his own life is assailed 
— convinced of his guilt by the mock-play- — he has 
no testimony that will satisfy the Danes that the 
deed was justified. They may believe only that he 
is a regicide who deserves death, and may at once 
inflict it. He doubts whether the presentation of 
the play, before he has secured proof that will sat- 
isfy others of his uncle's guilt, is a wise expedient. 
He believes that the play, if it convict the king, 

must also touch his mother's conscience to the same 

■ 

extent (he believes she was a party to her husband's 
murder), and he fears that, being the accomplice of 
Claudius, she may cling to him more closely than 
before their mutual guilt was discovered. This 
would postpone instead of hastening the fulfillment 
of his father's command. These considerations 
make him hesitate to put his plan at once in action. 
He reflects that trouble will inevitably result from 
the mock-play, be his uncle guilty or innocent. The 
play will touch him even if he did not kill his 
brother ; the king and queen will be publicly re- 
buked for their "o'er-hasty marriage;" and the death 
of the player king by violence, and not by accident, 
will make public Hamlet's unfounded suspicions of 
his uncle. He realizes that his plan, formed hastily, 
and under the stimulus of the player's agitation, 
may be a foolish one. He almost concludes that it 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 145 

will be better that he should continue to suffer — as 
he must still do if the ghost is proven a liar — than 
that he should cover two other comparatively inno- 
cent persons with shame, and direct suspicion to- 
ward them. These thoughts are not plainly ex- 
pressed in the text, but we impute them to Ham- 
let because he expresses the result of them in the 
Fourth Soliloquy — To be, or not to be. He certainly 
weighed every consideration, for and against, before 
he finally determined to carry out his plan of the 
mock-play as he had at first conceived it. 

He was occupied with his deliberations when 
Claudius's message summoned him to the lobby, 
and, when he found that his uncle had not yet come 
to the spot where he expected to meet him, Shake- 
speare makes Hamlet continue his meditation, and 
express it in speech, so that the audience may be 
certified as to the subject with which his thoughts 
are engaged. 

The soliloquy, To be, or not to be, expresses his 
deliberations, and does not relate to suicia\e. Let us 
inquire what proof there is of this. 



XIV. 

If we insert the nominative phrase that precedes, 
in Hamlet's mind, the words, To be, or not to be, the 
sentence will read : ' Is this thing, this plan, this 
play, with all its inevitable results, to be? Is it to 
be, or not to be : that is the question.' To be, or not 
to be, and the rest of this soliloquy, does not show 
us this prince advancing an argument to restrain 
himself from self-murder, but he reflects that his 
own death at his uncle's .hands will probably be the 
result of the play if he presents it, and he rehearses 
the considerations that move all men, even those 
who have a Christian hope, to endure a long life 
with its known evils, rather than to seek death with 
its unknown miseries. If, with the belief that 
Hamlet is thinking of suicide, we try to express 
the words understood, in connection with the first 
words of the soliloquy, we must say, either — ' Am 
I to be or not to be : that is the question ;' mean- 
ing, ' Am I to exist, or not to exist ? ' or, ' Is it (my 
self-murder) to be, or not to be : that is the ques- 
tion.' This is not a thought that the succeeding 
words elucidate : 

Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer 
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, 
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, 
And by opposing end them ? 
146 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 147 

In other words, ' the question is whether 'tis nobler 
for me to continue in my mind to suffer the slings 
and arrows of outrageous fortune, or to take arms 
against a sea of troubles, and, by opposition, to end 
them? ' If we infer that the opposing which is to 
end the troubles is suicide, we must perceive that 
this is not opposition. Oblivion, if it followed 
death (but Hamlet knew it did not), might end 
his troubles, and a different nature from Hamlet's 
might contemplate seeking death as a relief from 
the task he had vowed to perform ; but this would 
really be submitting to be overwhelmed by the sea 
of troubles, and not ending them by opposing 
them — which is the alternative Hamlet expresses. 
If Hamlet was contemplating suicide, and argued 
himself out of the idea, he would not afterward 
say: 

Thus conscience does make cowards of us all ; 
And thus the native hue of resolution 
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought, 
And enterprises of great pith and moment 
With this regard their currents turn away, 
And lose the name of action. 

He could not speak of self-murder as an enterprise 
of great pith and moment. 

These difficulties are inherent in the soliloquy if 
we interpret it as a contemplation of suicide ; they 
all vanish when we admit that he had not quite de- 
cided to present the play, and that he was review- 
ing the possible results of doing so. 

Hamlet's thoughts ran something in this way : 
' I cannot decide whether it is wjser to present 



148 THE TRUE STORY OF 

this play or not : there are reasons for and against 
it : is it to be, or not to be ? — that is the question. I can 
not even determine whether % tis nobler in the mind 
to continue passively to suffer the slings and arrows 
of outrageous fortune, or to take arms against a sea 
of troubles, and by opposing end them ? I am not 
even sure that if I oppose them I shall end them. 
I may not be successful. I may die in the attempt. 
Even so ? — to die is to sleep ; no more ; and by a sleep 
to say we end the heart-ache, and the thousand nat- 
ural shocks that flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation 
devoutly to be wislid for, and I can not see why all 
men do not welcome death. To die, is surely to 
sleep ; but to sleep is not always to rest ! — to sleep is 
perchance to dream : ay, there 's the rub ; for in that 
sleep of death what dreams may come when we have 
s huffed off this mortal coil, must give us pause. This 
is the reason men do not welcome death ; there's 
the respect that makes calamity of so long life ; for 
who would bear the whips and scorns of time, the 
oppressor s wrong, the proud man s contumely, the 
pangs of despised love, the laws delay, the insolence 
of office and the spurns that patient merit of the un- 
worthy takes, when lie himself might his quiet its make 
with a bare bodkin ? who would fardels bear, to grunt 
and szveat under a weary life, but that the dread of 
something after death, the undiscover d country, from 
whose bourn no traveler returns, puzzles the will and 
makes us rather bear those ills we have than fly to 
others that we know not of? These are the consid- 
erations that restrain men from death. Thus con- 
science docs make cowards of us all \ and thus the 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 149 

native hue of resolution is sicklied er with the pale 
cast of thought, and enterprises of great pith and mo- 
ment zvith this regard their currerits turn awry, and 
lose the name of action' 

I think this paraphrase briefly expresses Hamlet's 
thoughts while he was waiting for his uncle. At 
the beginning he was contemplating what must fol- 
low the mock-play, and he saw that instead of kill- 
ing Claudius he might be killed by him. At first 
thought, this seemed a consummation devoutly to 
be wished ; to die was to sleep ; no more ; and 
this philosophic reflection set a text for his thoughts, 
which he pursued until he had set in array the 
troubles mankind is subject to, and had decided 
that, if death were only a sleep, all unhappy men 
would " their quietus make with a bare bodkin." 
The troubles he enumerates are not those only that 
he has suffered from ; but the list is a synthesis of 
the miseries of rich and poor, of prince and peasant. 

Hamlet has not been subjected to all, or half, the 
miseries he enumerates; but he knows that there 
are men who bear them, and he meditates on the 
incentive that induces humanity to suffer so long : 
this he says is dread of the worser troubles after 
death. He does not say that suicide, only, entails 
punishment ; all death, whether self-inflicted or not, 
entails it. Conscience whispers to all men that 
they deserve discipline, and not knowing what it 
will be, mankind hesitates to seek relief in death 
from the troubles of this world : they fear to fly to 
evils that they know not of. 

This generalization, this moralizing on present 



150 THE TRUE STORY OF 

and future punishment is the extent of Hamlet's 
meaning in the latter part of the soliloquy. The 
words, To be or not to be: that is the question : relate 
to the plan he has conceived and its results, and so 
Claudius understood it. He and Polonius hear the 
soliloquy, as they wait in hiding to observe Hamlet's 
conduct toward Ophelia ; and Claudius, while he 
does not know — as the audience does — what subject 
Hamlet is revolving, perceives that it is some plan 
which bodes danger to him. He says : 

There's something in his soul, 
O'er which his melancholy sits on brood ; 
And I do doubt the hatch and the disclose 
Will be some danger. 

Some danger to me, Claudius means, and not to 
Hamlet. If Hamlet spoke of suicide, and Claudius 
understood him, the danger would be disclosed : it 
would menace Hamlet only, and Claudius need not 
fear the hatch. But the king knew from this solilo- 
quy that Hamlet was brooding over something ; 
incubating it ; and he realized that the hatch and the 
disclose of the as yet unknown subject of medita- 
tion would be some danger to himself. Hamlet's 
threat to Ophelia, all but one shall live, confirmed 
this conclusion, and therefore Claudius determines, 
on the instant, to banish Hamlet from the court. 
He says, 

I have in quick determination 

Thus set it down : he shall with Speed to England, 

For the demand of our neglected tribute : 

Haply the seas and countries different 

With variable objects shall expel 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 151 

This something-settled matter in his heart, 
Whereon his brains still beating puts him thus 
From fashion of himself. 

but this was not liis real object. He does not care 
to restore Hamlet to happiness, but he determines 
to save himself. If he thought Hamlet spoke of 
suicide, Claudius would rejoice : his happiness would 
be secured if Hamlet, by his own act, should remove 
himself forever from his path. If he thought Ham- 
let spoke of suicide he would make no effort to 
expel this something-settled matter in his heart by 
sending him on a sea voyage, but would encourage, 
if he could, the broodings that were prompting 
Hamlet to invite death. The something-settled 
matter that was in Hamlet's heart was the project 
of the mock-play. 

This scene is one of many where the audience — 
being the friends and confidants of Hamlet — under- 
stand the meaning of his words, and follow the 
current of his thoughts, while they seem unintelli- 
gible and inexplicable to those with whom he is in 
converse. 

If Hamlet had been represented by Shakespeare 
as entering the lobby with his eyes fixed on a scroll 
in which was written out the lines he had prepared 
for the players to insert in The Murder of Gonzago, 
the meaning of To be, or not to be, never would have 
been disputed. It would be evident when he spoke, 
that he was considering the mock-play. To repre- 
sent him thus is a liberty that any actor might take ; 
and this little aid to understanding would be 
all that even a stupid audience would need to 



152 THE TRUE STORY OF 

make them discover the subject of Hamlet's 
thoughts. 

The meaning of this soliloquy does not affect 
the progress of the play, it might be omitted with- 
out interfering with the action or understanding of 
it ; but its true interpretation, if it be retained, 
is very essential to the development of Hamlet's 
character. We degrade Hamlet utterly if we ad- 
mit that at this hour, when he has at last conceived 
a plan that will impose action on him, he is thinking 
of death as a possible means of release from the ob- 
ligation he has accepted. From the moment he 
receives the command of his father's spirit, Hamlet 
never attempts to evade the performance of it, but 
he desires to convince himself that the imposition 
did not come from the devil. He did not feel that 
the duty — if it were a duty — was too heavy for him 
to accomplish ; he felt competent to kill his uncle, 
and he believed he would be able to detach his 
mother's heart from him. He did long for death 
when he first realized that he had lost his father, 
his inheritance, and his place in his mother's heart ; 
when he thought there was no place for him — an 
absolutely upright soul — in the unweeded garden of 
the world, but not after he had recognized as his 
duty the obligation to reclaim the crown from a 
murderer and a thief, and even when he most de- 
sired the balm of oblivion he had no thought of 
procuring it for himself. The duty afterward im- 
posed on him by the apparition compelled him to 
live, and made life bearable, because it gave him 
hope of happier days. He vowed to perform the 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 153 

task, and he expects to receive for its performance, 
in addition to the satisfaction of giving rest to his 
beloved father, the guerdon of a crown. The 
ghost's revelation, by making him reflect on Ophe- 
lia's disposition, has necessitated a great sacrifice, 
though it did not command it — the renunciation of 
a union with the maiden, but Hamlet's rectitude 
is so perfect that he knows he would not be happy 
with any but an absolutely pure nature, and he is at 
last reconciled to live without Ophelia. He made 
his final decision the day before he uttered this so- 
liloquy, and conveyed it to Ophelia and Polonius. 
Since making that decision he has made a further 
advance toward fulfilling the ghost's command : he 
has conceived a plan that must force action upon 
him, if the spirit was indeed his father's. 

Critics say that at this juncture, when at last he 
has secured the means to learn the truth, — the means 
for which he has been seeking for two months, — 
Hamlet, because he sees that the mock-play will 
necessitate action, seeks to evade it by committing 
suicide. What does he gain by suicide? If his 
uncle be guilty it should be as easy to kill him as to 
kill oneself, and why should he commit self-murder 
before he attempts to kill the king, when death is 
the utmost penalty that he can suffer if he make 
the attempt? If he tries to kill the king he may 
succeed, even if he pay the forfeit of his own life, 
but to die without attacking his uncle would be the 
height of cowardice, physical and moral. Why 
should Hamlet prefer self-murder to death at his 
uncle's hands or at the Danes' ? 



154 THE TRUE STORY OF 

The soliloquy To be, or not to be, is prompted only 
by doubts whether it is best to present the mock- 
play, and a temptation to suicide does not enter 
Hamlet's mind. 

In confirmation of this interpretation of Hamlet's 
musings let us consider how the current of his 
thoughts is indicated to us, all through the play. 
Every time he leaves ourpresence he is possessed by 
some controlling idea, and his mind is occupied by it 
until he again appears, and, taking up the considera- 
tion of the same subject, continues it in our sight and 
hearing. Thus, when we see him first he is disgusted 
with life and desirous to be rid of it. Horatio dis- 
places these reflections by the intelligence that the 
dead king's spirit walks, and Hamlet leaves our pre- 
sence possessed by this thought and by the determi- 
nation to watch that night. When we next see him 
he has come to the platform to carry out that inten- 
tion, and, when he leaves us again, he has sworn to 
make his memory a blank, to " wipe away all tender 
fond records," and devote himself to revenging his 
father's murder. Our next knowledge of him, which 
we get from report, not sight, shows him engaged in 
an act that his father's revelation has made necessary 
— the renunciation of Ophelia, and when we do see 
him, soon after this renunciation, his thoughts are 
still occupied by it, and he expresses his determina- 
tion to Polonius, who does not, however understand 
him. The arrival of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, 
and of the players who follow them, suggests other 
thoughts. Hamlet requests the player to recite some 
lines, and, while listening to them, he conceives a 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 155 

plan to entrap his uncle : he makes arrangements to 
execute it, and leaves our presence intent upon the 
idea. When he next appears the Fourth Soliloquy, 
To be, or not to be, indicates that he is still revolving 
the plan, which does not now seem so desirable as 
when he first conceived it. After continuing this 
soliloquy for some time, without making a decision, 
he interrupts himself, on catching sight of Ophelia, 
who compels him to repulse her by words, as he has 
already done by action. This conversation with her, 
on a subject that was already settled so far as he was 
concerned, does not engross him after it is ended, 
and his thoughts return to the consideration of the 
mock-play. When we see him next he is instructing 
the player how to speak the lines he wishes inserted 
in it. In spite of the risk of defeat and death he has 
decided to set his " mouse-trap." The principle of 
obedience exacts that he shall at least assure himself 
that the spirit was his father's. After the mock- 
play we clearly see all his thoughts until he leaves 
Denmark for England. The last words we hear him 
speak before he sails — 

O, from this time forth, 
My thoughts be bloody, or be nothing worth ! — 

lead us to expect that bloody thoughts will occupy 
him when next we see him. He remains away 
almost two months, but, on his return to Denmark, 
his conversation with Horatio and the grave-digger 
proves that his only desire is at once to kill the king, 
and this feeling possesses him until the end of the 
play. Ophelia's funeral, and the fencing match, in- 



"V 



156 HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 

terrupt but do not turn aside his thoughts from this 
one subject, and he dies having accomplished his 
father's injunction. Hamlet's speeches on his every 
entrance in the play indicate progress toward this 
point and not retrogression. The coherence of 
thought from one appearance to another is un- 
broken, unless we admit that in the soliloquy, To be, 
or not to be, his thoughts have been dislocated and 
turned back to connect with those he expressed in 
the First Soliloquy. This I can not allow. 



XV. 

A CONSIDERATION of the First Quarto and of the 
old Hystorie of Hamblet will help us to make a 
judgment, as to the subject of the prince's thoughts ; 
but first we must convince ourselves that Hamlet 
has absolutely no doubt of the immortality of the 
soul, and steadfastly believes in a state of future 
rewards and punishments. He could not express 
this more strongly than he does in the Sixth 
Soliloquy, as he who runs may read. But, indeed, 
the return of his father's spirit from the grave 
should have convinced him that death did not end 
existence, had he ever felt any doubt, of which there 
is no proof. Most of Hamlet's suffering was the 
reflex of what his father was enduring after death. 
We need only now consider the Sixth Soliloquy 
with reference to the proof it gives us of Hamlet's 
belief in a future life. He sees the king on his 
knees absorbed in prayer, and is tempted to kill him. 

Now might I do it pat, now he is praying ; 

And now I'll do't. And so he goes to heaven ; 

And so I am revenged. That would be scann'd : 

A villain kills my father ; and for that, 

I, his sole son, do this same villain send 

To heaven. 

O, this is hire and salary, not revenge. 

He took my father grossly, full of bread ; 

With all his crimes broad blown, as flush as May ; 

157 



158 THE TRUE STORY OF 

And how his audit stands who knows save heaven ? 

But in our circumstance and course of thought, 

'Tis heavy with him : and am I then revenged, 

To take him in the purging of his soul, 

When he is fit and season'd for his passage ? 

No! 

Up, sword ; and know thou a more horrid hent : 

When he is drunk asleep, or in his rage, 

Or in the incestuous pleasure of his bed ; 

At gaming, swearing, or about, some act 

That has no relish of salvation in't ; 

Then trip him, that his heels may kick at heaven, 

And that his soul may be as damn'd and black 

As hell, whereto it goes. My mother stays : 

This physic but prolongs thy sickly days. 

Does not this convince us that Hamlet knew death 
was much more than a dreamless sleep? 

In the First Quarto the soliloquy To be, or not to 
be, and the succeeding conversation with Ophelia are 
introduced earlier in the drama. They precede the 
coming of the players and the conception of the 
idea of the mock-play : they immediately succeed 
the interview with Ophelia in her chamber. The 
conversation with Ophelia in the lobby is in sub- 
stance, though not in literal expression, the same as 
that which Shakespeare, while altering its location, 
preserves in the Second Quarto, but the soliloquy 
is as follows : 

To be, or not to be, I there's the point, 

To Die, to fleepe, is that all ? I all : 

No, to fleepe, to dreame, I mary there it goes, 

For in that dreame of death, when wee awake, 

And borne before our euerlasting Iudge, 

From whence no paffenger euer return 'd, 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 159 

The vndifcouered country, at whofe fight 

The happy fmile, and the accurfed damn'd. 

But for this, the ioyfull hope of this, 

Whol'd bear the fcornes and flattery of the world, 

Scorned by the right rich, the rich curffed of the poore ? 

The widow being oppreffed, the orphan wrong'd, 

The tafte of hunger, or a tirants raigne, 

And thoufand more calamities befides, 

To grunt and fweate vnder this weary life, 

When that he may his full Quietus make, 

With a bare bodkin, who would this indure, 

But for a hope of fomething after death ? 

Which pufles the braine, and doth confound the fence, 

Which makes vs rather beare thofe euilles we haue, 

Than flie to others that we know not of. 

I that, O this confcience makes cowardes of vs all, 

Lady in thy orizons, be all my finnes remembred, 

Shakespeare, when he revised the play, kept the 
soliloquy and the conversation with Ophelia in 
apposition, but, while he made very little change in 
the conversation, he entirely re-wrote the soliloquy, 
altering and expanding it, and changing its appli- 
cation and its prominent idea. 

In the First Quarto, the soliloquy, in the relation 
in which it stood to the other scenes, could not 
refer to the mock-play. There was no question of 
a play the result of which might necessitate killing 
Claudius, but Hamlet squarely debated the subject 
he had been considering for two months, — whether 
he should believe ths ghost and act on its command 
or not. In the First Quarto the words, To be, or not 
to be, refer for their antecedent phrase to the reve- 
lation of the ghost and the duty imposed by it. The 
question thus suggested is the one for which the 



160 THE TRUE STORY OF 

comprehensive it (understood) is substituted. To 
be, or not to be, I tJiere's the point, means, ' Am I to 
take the word of the apparition for sooth, and kill 
the king on this testimony, or not ? Is it to be, or 
not to be ? ' 

Shakespeare saw the possibility that the appli- 
cation of these words might not be perfectly plain, 
and he saw that the place they occupied in the First 
Quarto was not the most effective for them : there- 
fore he removed the soliloquy to its present posi- 
tion. 

I there's the point 

did not suggest the consideration of alternatives as 

plainly as, 

That is the question. 

Therefore he removed the former phrase from its 
position in the first line, and inserted it further on, as, 

ay, there's the rub, 

filling the hiatus formed by its removal with, 

That is the question. 
Then he expressed another question, on the answer 
to which the answer to the first depended : 

Whether 'tis (= is it) nobler in the mind to suffer 
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, 
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, 
And by opposing end them ? 

This second question is not given in the First 
Quarto : that instantly jumps to the consideration 
that death might result from Hamlet's efforts to 
obey the ghost. But Shakespeare, when he wrote, 
And by opposing end them, 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 161 

did not think that the phrase would be interpreted 
and by uniting with them enable them to overcome me. 
He thought he had exhibited Hamlet with such a 
noble character that other noble minds would not 
accuse him of cowardice and procrastination. He 
held the clue to all of Hamlet's thoughts and 
hesitations and actions, and he believed he had ex- 
pressed all that was necessary to give others a hold 
on it. In a drama a character does not, as in a 
narrative, say, " At such a juncture I thought so 
and so :" his thoughts must be divined from his 
actions. Hamlet's soliloquies are, in this sense, his 
actions. 

Some critics think that the change of position of 
the Fourth Soliloquy was injudicious, and their 
judgment is right if Hamlet was thinking of suicide. 
Its proper place with that interpretation is as near 
the First Soliloquy — 

O, that this too too solid flesh would melt- 
as possible. But Shakespeare did not make the 
change of place without consideration. The elabor- 
ation of the soliloquy and the change of the 
restraining motive should convince us that he 
considered this matter also, and put the lines where 
he thought they were needed, filling the place from 
which he took them by the conversation of Ham- 
let and Polonius, and supplying words to introduce 
it that were not called for where the soliloquy was 
before located. 

The change in the position of the soliloquy 
and its amplification was not the only alteration 



162 THE TRUE STORY OF 

Shakespeare made : he changed its main idea. Ac- 
cording to the First Quarto men endure trouble in 
this world buoyed up by the hope of a blissful im- 
mortality : 

But for this, the ioyfull hope of this, 

Whol'd bear the fcornes and flattery of the world, 

. . . who would this indure, 
But for a hope of fomething after death ? 

In the First Quarto Hope is the angel who sus- 
tains humanity during a long life ; in the Second 
Quarto a threatening Nemesis, whispering of future 
punishment, frightens mankind into enduring it so 
long. This is a vital change in the prominent idea 
of the soliloquy. The First Quarto expresses the 
Christian sentiment, and this we should expect to 
animate Hamlet. It must be some strong reason 
that induced Shakespeare to substitute the pagan 
opinion for the Christian teaching. This reason we 
find on turning to p. 304 of the Hystorie of Hamblet. 
Reading from, "To conclude, glorie is the crowne 
of vertue," through the paragraph, we find there the 
origin of each idea of the soliloquy. Shakespeare 
re-wrote with the Hystorie before him, and he ex- 
pressed in To be, or not to be, the same thoughts 
that moved prince Hamblet in the old novel. He 
altered their order and expressed them differently, 
but the end of Hamblet's conversation with his 
mother is paraphrased in To be, or not to be. Let us 
place the passages from the old Hystorie in the 
order in which Shakespeare used them, and point 
out the thoughts each one suggested to him, and 
the manner of their rendering in the soliloquy. 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 163 

Hamblet has been debating whether he would 
better kill his uncle, and the means to be employed. 
He says : (p. 299) 

it was not without cause, and iuste occasion, yt my 
gestures, countenances, and words seeme all to pro- 
ceed from a madman, and that I desire to haue all 
men esteeme mee wholly depriued of sence and rea- 
sonable vnderstanding,because I am well assured, that 
he hath made no conscience to kill his owne brother, 
(accustomed to murthers, & allured with desire of 
gouernement without controll in his treasons) will not 
spare to saue himselfe with the like crueltie, in the 
blood & flesh of the loyns of his brother, by him 
massacred : & therefore, it is better for me to fayne 
madnesse then to vse my right sences as nature hath 
bestowed them vpon me. The bright shining clear- 
nes thereof I am forced to hide vnder this shadow 
of dissimulation, as the sun doth hir beams vnder 
some great cloud, when the wether in sommer time 
ouercasteth : the face of a mad man, serueth to 
couer my gallant countenance, & the gestures of a 
fool are fit for me, to y e end that guiding myself 
wisely therin I may preserue my life for y e Danes, 
& the memory of my late deceased father, for y* 
the desire of reuenging his death is so ingrauen in 
my heart y* if I dye not shortly, I hope to take such 
and so great vengeance, that these Countryes shall 
foreuer speake thereof. Neuerthelesse I must stay 
the time, meanes, and occasion, lest by making ouer 
great hast, I be now the cause of mine owne 
sodaine ruine and ouerthrow, and by that meanes, 
end, before I beginne to effect my hearts desire : bee 
that hath to doe with a wicked, disloyall, cruell, 
and discourteous man, must vse craft, and politike 
inuentions, such as a fine witte can best imagine, 
not to discover his interprise : for seeing that by 
force I cannot effect my desire, reason alloweth me 



164 THE TRUE STORY OF 

by dissimulation, subtiltie, and secret practices to 
proceed therein. 

And further he adds: 

I know it is foolishly done, to gather fruit before 
it is ripe, & to seeke to enioy a benefit, not know- 
ing whither it belong to vs of right. 

As these thoughts occupy Hamblet in the old 
novel, so they occur to our prince before he begins 
to speak : he knows it is foolishly done to seek to 
kill his uncle, in obedience to the ghost's command, 
before he secures testimony that will satisfy his 
mother and the Danes that Claudius deserves death ; 
he knows it is foolishly done to seek to place him- 
self upon the throne, before he is absolutely certain 
that his uncle wrongfully withholds it from him; 
he knows it is foolishly done to expose to his crafty 
uncle any device that his fine wit entertains, unless 
he is certain it will be successful; and, knowing all 
this, he does not know that it is wise to present the 
mock-play. These thoughts precede and suggest 
the first line of the soliloquy and its expansion. 
Because he knows all this, he says, speaking about 
the play : 

To be, or not to be : that is the question : 

[I cannot decide it, nor can I now decide,] 

Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer 
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, 
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, 
And by opposing end them ? 

The next passage from the Hystoric — 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 165 

glorie is the crowne of virtue, & the price of con- 
stancie, and seeing that it neuer accompanieth 
with infelicitie, but shunneth cowardize and spirits 
of base & trayterous conditions, it must necessarily 
followe, that either a glorious death will be mine 
ende, or with my sword in hand, (laden with try- 
umph and victorie) I shall bereaue them of their 
Hues, that made mine vnfortunate — 

leads him to think that, as his uncle is a coward 
and a traitor, the attempt against him may be suc- 
cessful. 'But if it be not,' Hamlet thinks, 'what of 
it ? what if I be killed ? what is it to die ? to sleep ; 
no more.' The amplification of this thought is 

expressed by — 

To die ; to sleep ; 

No more ; and by a sleep to say we end 

The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks 

That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation 

Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep ; 

To sleep : perchance to dream : ay, there's the rub ; 

For in that sleep of death what dreams may come 

When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, 

Must give us pause : there's the respect 

That makes calamity of so long life. 
From this point the soliloquy is an expansion of 
the following passage : 

For why should men desire to Hue, when shame 
& infamie are the executioners that torment their 
consciences, and villany is the cause that witholdeth 
the heart from valiant enterprises, and diuerteth the 
minde from honest desire of glorie and commenda- 
tion, which indureth for euer? 

Not all the lines suggested by this passage are 

found in the First Quarto : the lines that follow, 

Thus conscience does make cowards of us all, 



166 THE TRUE STORY OF 

have no counterpart in it ; but these lines are plainly 
a paraphrase of the passage I have just quoted, and 
the lines preceding it are, as plainly, suggested by it. 

When Shakespeare added this paraphrase to the 
soliloquy, he perceived that a hope of happiness 
after death was not the motive that supported 
those whose consciences were tormented by " shame 
and infamie." He knew that men who were at- 
tended by these executioners did not hope but 
feared, and preferred to bear those ills they had, 
rather than fly to others that they knew not of. 
This is the reason Shakespeare made the change of 
hope to dread. 

If we allow that Shakespeare paraphrased the 
Hystorie, we shall be constrained to admit that it 
expresses what Hamlet meant to express in the 
Fourth Soliloquy. We shall be compelled to per- 
ceive that he was revolving in his mind some 
" politic inventions, such as a fine wit can best 
imagine, not to discover his enterprise," and we 
shall be forced to conclude that he spoke of death in 
general, as affecting all mankind, and, when he con- 
templated the possibility of his own death, thought 
of it as inflicted by others, and not by his own hand. 

Early in this century Ziegler, a German actor, ad- 
vanced the theory that Hamlet, by To be, or not to 
be, referred to the mock-play, and not to suicide, 
and several other German critics have since agreed 
with him. This seems to be the only interpretation 
that does not degrade Hamlet in our estimation : 
to see him seeking oblivion by suicide minifies him. 
This idea of the soliloquy does not rob it of any of 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 167 

its beauties, but it enriches our idea of Hamlet. 
We see that he has even greater moral and intel- 
lectual gifts than we before attributed to him. We 
realize that in spite of his appreciation of what 
might ensue, he did present the mock-play, and we 
are forced to confess that he did not delay unduly 
to prove the ghost reliable, or to try to execute its 
dread command. 

Shakespeare did not, as is asserted, write care- 
lessly when, after the return of the ghost from the 
other world, he made Hamlet speak of 

The undiscover'd country from whose bourn 
No traveller returns. 

Hamlet meant that country from which no traveler 
can return. All other journeys a traveler can 
abandon if he be dissatisfied with what he finds at 
his journey's end, but from beyond the bourn of 
Death no traveler returns. If once he reaches that 
undiscovered country he is a prisoner ; he must be- 
come an inhabitant ; his sojourn is not a visit that 
he can end at will, but a compulsory residence ; nor 
can he send back any account of it, or of its people. 
In this it differs from all other countries, and in this 
sense it is undiscovered, unknown. Hamlet does 
not forget that his father had come from hell to 
speak with him, but he does not consider this the 
return of a traveler: it was only a momentary re- 
lease from confinement. This explanation seems 
necessary to confirm the belief that Shakespeare 
thoughtfully considered the Fourth Soliloquy, and 
the changes he made from the first conception of it. 






XVI. 

With any interpretation of the Fourth Soliloquy, 
I do not see how critics have persuaded themselves 
to believe that the same mind that gives expression 
to these grand and beautiful thoughts, in words that 
echo the feeling of every world-weary mind, can in a 
moment assume and feign the rudeness and cruelty 
of Hamlet's tauntings of Ophelia. Nothing can 
excuse them except the belief that they are wrung 
from his tortured heart by the thought that Ophe- 
lia, Polonius, and the king are all combined in a 
league to force him to a marriage that the revela- 
tion of the ghost has made forever impossible. /But 
Hamlet, when he comes to the lobby obedient to 
his uncle's summons, has forgotten Ophelia ; has 
forgotten that he means to separate himself from 
her; he thinks only of his new-made plan£< 
speaking— 4«s-— thoughts-- -aloud. In his surprise, 
when he first perceives the maiden there, the 
habit of his happier hours controls his tongue, and 
he breaks off his graver speech with the tender 
words : 

Soft you now ! 
The fair Ophelia ! Nymph, in thy orisons 
Be all my sins remember'd. 
168 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 169 

The spell still controls him when, in reply to her 

timorous greeting — 

Good my lord, 
How does your lordship for this many a day ? 

he answers : 

I humbly thank you; well, well, well. 

But it is rudely broken by her succeeding speech : 

My lord, I have remembrances of yours, 
That I have longed long to re-deliver ; 
I pray you, now receive them, 

Ophelia has brought these little gifts without the 
knowledge of her father. There was a sort of pre- 
science in her heart that told her Hamlet might be 
eternally estranged, and her maidenly pride had 
found a way to retreat from the interview without 
exposing itself to absolute rout and defeat, while at 
the same time it invited Hamlet to renew his vows 
of love. She would be the first to suggest the sepa- 
ration ; if Hamlet objected to it, her happiness 
would be the greater. Her words recall to Hamlet 
all his recent determinations ; he still adheres to 
them, but he had not meant to hurt the maid with 
speech. He thought that absence from her, and 
silence, would indicate his changed intentions, but 
now the subject is forced upon him, and he tries to 
avoid it and to save Ophelia by denial. He trusts to 
her belief in the report that he is mad, and answers : 

No, not I ; 
I never gave you aught. 

This is not only contrary to the truth, but it is con- 
trary to the testimony that Ophelia is expecting to 



170 THE TRUE STORY OF 

furnish her two listeners, and she is forced to press 
the gifts on Hamlet : 

My honour'd lord, you know right well you did ; 
And, with them, words of so sweet breath composed 
As made the things more rich : their perfume lost, 
Take these again ; for to the noble mind 
Rich gifts wax poor, when givers prove unkind. 

She hands them to him, with the words that breathe 
her satisfaction in so much accomplished : 

There, my lord. 

There is both dignity and self-assertion in Ophelia's 
tender words. Hamlet is touched by the expres- 
sions that reveal her love, and, while he laughs off 
her contradiction, once more a passing doubt assails 
him as to whether he must, to keep his self-respect, 
abandon so fair an epitome of youth and love. He 
asks her : 

Ha, ha ! Are you honest ? 

Honest does not carry the same meaning as when 
Hamlet employed it to Polonius : it differs as does 
honor when we apply it to women or to men. It 
means here, 

Are you virtuous ? 

and so Ophelia understands it, and shows her under- 
standing in her exclamation of shocked surprise : 

My lord ? 

Hamlet perceives her emotion, and looking on her 
face he answers his own question by another : 

Are you fair ? 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 171 

Ophelia, alarmed at she knows not what, re- 
sponds : 

What means your lordship ? 

and he replies : 

That if you be honest and fair, your honesty should admit no 
discourse to your beauty. 

And he mentally continues : 

[for you are of such a natural disposition that if you be exposed 
to temptation you will inevitably succumb to it.] 

This is the same thought he had before expressed to 
Polonius : 

Have you a daughter ? . . . Let her not walk i' the sun : 
conception is a blessing : but not as your daughter may con- 
ceive. Friend, look to't. 

To Hamlet's spoken words Ophelia replies : 

Could beauty, my lord, have better commerce than with 
honesty ? 

and Hamlet substantially repeats his assertion : 

Ay, truly ; for the power of beauty will sooner transform 
honesty from what it is to a bawd than the force of honesty 
can translate beauty into his likeness : this was some time a 
paradox, but now the time gives it proof, [the time in which I 
have discovered the ruin my mother's beauty wrought upon 
her honesty.] 

Thinking on the happy time when he had believed 
her innocent, he adds: 

I did love you once. 
Oph. Indeed, my lord, you made me believe so. 

The use of this word indeed, by the tone it imparts 
to the spoken reply, shows to a sensitive ear that 



172 THE TRUE STORY OF 

hope is stirring in Ophelia's breast, but Hamlet's 
next words paralyze it forever : 

You should not have believed me ; [I myself hardly believe 
it. I doubt everything. I doubt you, and love that doubts is 
not true love. I doubt if I have the virtue of constancy, my 
mother did not have it. I incline to be virtuous, but am not 
sure I shall continue so,] for virtue can not so inoculate our 
old stock but we shall relish of it : {i.e., of our old stock] I loved 
you not. 

With gentle submission to the inevitable, Ophelia 

answers : 

I was the more deceived. 

Poor child ! Hamlet has disarranged her rela- 
tions to the universe : if she is deceived in what her 
soul was so united to, how can she believe that any 
less essential thing is what it seems ? Hamlet's ten- 
derness tries to make Ophelia understand that union 
with him is not desirable, at the same time that his 
jealous love seeks to separate her from all other 

men. 

Get thee to a nunnery : 

he says. This does not seem to him a cruel sen- 
tence ; he has not found the world so lovely that 
he wants to linger in it ; a nunnery to him means 
safety and peace, and he counsels Ophelia : 

Get thee to a nunnery : [where thou wilt be the bride of 
heaven alone. Marry no one] why wouldst thou be a breeder 
of sinners ? I am myself indifferent honest ; but yet I could 
accuse me of such things that it were better my mother had 
not borne me : I am very proud, revengeful, ambitious, with 
more offenses at my beck than I have thoughts to put them in, 
imagination to give them shape, or time to act them in. What 
should such fellows as I do crawling between earth and heaven ? 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 173 

[Do not desire to be the mother of others like me.] We are 
arrant knaves, all ; believe none of us. Go thy ways to a nun- 
nery. 

Then, suddenly remembering that believing him 
to be an arrant knave, Polonius has removed Ophe- 
lia from his society, he perceives that, ignoring his 
rudeness of the day before, she is here, in the royal 
castle, alone, away from her own house, not in his 
mother's apartments but in the public lobby where 
she might expect to meet him whom her father has 
forbidden her to see. The tender of the presents 
shows that it was a planned meeting on Ophelia's 
part ; still her father may be with her, she may have 
come with him? and Hamlet looks around him for 
Polonius, and not discovering him he asks : 

Where's your father? 

Not suspecting what his thoughts have been, 
Ophelia answers, it may be with a hesitating 
tongue : 

At home, my lord. 

There is no reason to believe that Hamlet sus- 
pects this to be a lie; his reply does not show it ; 
it discloses only his feeling toward the man whom 
he knows to be his uncle's tool, the man who shut 
Ophelia away from him, — the man who with so 
little cause thinks him insane : 

Let the doors be shut upon him, that he may play the fool no 
where but in's own house. 

But in looking for Polonius, Hamlet has been re- 
minded that he came to the lobby to meet Claudius, 
who had " closely " sent for him : instead he has 



174 THE TRUE STORY OF 

found Ophelia. He instantly conceives, what is the 
truth, that collusion between the king and Ophelia 
has brought her hither. Her answer: 

At home, my lord. 

shows him, as he supposes, that Ophelia is capable, 
on Claudius's suggestion, of deceiving her father and 
disobeying him, of coming unattended and alone to 
the castle for the ostensible purpose of returning gifts 
that she could at any time return by messenger, but 
really with the design to wring from him a new ex- 
pression of his love. This answer, as indicating 
Ophelia's duplicity, and her understanding with Clau- 
dius, gives to his vigilant jealousy the testimony 
he has so long been seeking. She is not honest ! 
She will prove untrue ! He has at last received the 
proof that his mind sought yet dreaded to admit. 
In a sudden paroxysm of grief and despair he breaks 
away, saying only : 

Farewell ! 
Ophelia's prayer : 

O, help him, yon sweet heavens ! 

enrages him, and he turns and exhibits the involun- 
tary disorder of his soul. How dare she, who has 
brought him to this misery, appeal in his behalf to 
heaven ! Can she not see that though he may seem 
mad to others he is not so in fact, but is driven to 
his conduct in great part by her weakness and lack 
of principle? Unhappy Hamlet ! he is nearer loss 
of reason now than ever before ; he is alienated from 
his nobler self. His rage breaks its bounds, he can 
not control the tumult of his thoughts, and no longer 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 175 

restrained by the hope that Ophelia may be abso- 
lutely upright, he overwhelms her with the waters 
of his indignation : 

If thou dost marry, I'll give thee this plague for thy dowry : 
be thou as chaste as ice, as pure as snow, thou shalt not escape 
calumny, [thou hast that within thy blood which must expose 
thee to it.] Get thee to a nunnery, go : farewell. Or, if thou 
wilt needs marry, marry a fool ; for wise men [men as wise as 
I] know well enough what monsters you make of them. To a 
nunnery, go, and quickly too. Farewell. 

Ophelia, believing herself in the presence of a 
madman, excuses and compassionates him, and prays 
again : 

O heavenly powers, restore him ! 

and Hamlet turns once more, partly in self-justifica- 
tion : 

I have heard of your paintings too, well enough ; God has 
given you one face, and you make yourselves another : you jig, 
you amble, and you lisp, and nick-name God's creatures, and 
make your wantonness your ignorance, {i.e., you dance affect- 
edly, you walk carelessly, you speak indistinctly and with affec- 
tation, and you give foolish names to God's creatures, and 
make your negligence of restraint appear to come from ignor- 
ance : these are the wiles and snares by which you worthless 
women entrap honest men and delude them into marriage with 
you.) Go to, I'll no more on't ; it hath made me mad. I say, 
we will have no more marriages : those that are married already, 
all but one, shall live ; the rest shall keep as they are. To a 
nunnery go. 

This statement to Ophelia, // hath made me mad, 
is only the exaggeration of a lover who feels how 
much of his misery arises from the misconduct of 
his mistress. It has been echoed by hundreds of 



176 THE TRUE STORY OF 

lovers, before and since, without exciting a doubt 
as to their absolute sanity. Hamlet's meaning is : 

[This conflict in my soul, which you believe is madness, does 
not arise from your repulse of my love but from the constitu- 
tional duplicity of womankind : my mother's exhibition of it has 
enlightened me, and I see in you the potentiality of all that ex- 
ists in her.] I'll no more on't. // hath made me mad. I say 
we'll have no more marriages. 

As Hamlet leaves Ophelia after this scathing de- 
nunciation, she forgets that her father and the king 
have listened to it, she only mourns over the de- 
thronement of her lover's reason and her own con- 
sequent unhappiness. She agrees with Hamlet's 
general strictures on womankind, but thinks that 
nothing but mental alienation could have licensed 
him to express them. She says : 

O, what a noble mind is here o'erthrown ! 

The courtier's, soldier's, scholar's, eye, tongue, sword ; 

The expectancy and rose of the fair state, 

The glass of fashion and the mould of form, 

The observ'd of all observers, quite, quite down ! 

And I, of ladies most deject and wretched, 

That suck'd the honey of his music vows, 

Now see that noble and most sovereign reason. 

Like sweet bells jangled, out of tune and harsh ; 

That unmatched form and feature of blown youth 

Blasted with ecstasy : O, woe is me, 

To have seen what I have seen, see what I see ! 

Except her troubled exclamations at the play, these 
are the last words we hear Ophelia speak until 
madness has deprived her utterances of their true 
value, and they live in our memories and echo in 
our ears when we next see her seeking the " beau- 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 177 

teous majesty of Denmark." When Polonius and 
the king enter from their retirement, even Polonius's 
mercenary heart is touched by Ophelia's grief. He 
allows her unnoticed to indulge it, while Claudius 
says : 

Love ! his affections do not that way tend ; 

Nor what he spake, though it lack'd form a little, 

Was not like madness. 

Why will not critics accept these words as evi- 
dence ? Why will they insist that Hamlet either 
was mad, or counterfeited madness to alienate 
Ophelia and reconcile her to a separation from him? 
Claudius says " what he spake was not like mad- 
ness." Ophelia believed it was, but the belief had 
been suggested to her, and her self-respect could 
provide no other interpretation of Hamlet's harsh 
words. Claudius, whose guilt made him clear- 
sighted, and we, who know so much more than he, 
know that disgust with womankind in general, and 
Gertrude and Ophelia in particular, was the inspira- 
tion for Hamlet's words. 

It may be objected that in the foregoing conver- 
sation I have inserted much more than there is any 
justification for. But " Shakespeare* wrote to be 
acted and not to be read." In the acting are in- 
cluded pauses that are only indicated in the text, 
but which are often more eloquent than words. 
Warburton said : " This wonderful man had an art, 
not only of acquainting his audience with what his 
actors say, but with what they think." The pauses 
in which Hamlet pursues his distracted thoughts 



178 THE TRUE STORY OF 

are filled with meaning for the thoughtful hearer, 
and the interpretation of these pauses both here and 
elsewhere may be, and I believe is, that which I have 
given them. 

While hiding, Claudius had heard Hamlet's 
threat, " all but one shall live." He realizes that 
this was aimed at him, and his determination is 
straightway taken to send his nephew into Eng- 
land, or maybe he already decides to send him 
on a longer journey. Whatever his intention, he 
tells Polonius that he means the prince shall at once 
be sent to England, in the hope that change of air 
may benefit him. Polonius fears the result of separ- 
ating Hamlet and Ophelia, he can not renounce the 
hope that Hamlet's " grief sprung from neglected 
love;" therefore, knowing Hamlet's affection for the 
queen, and hers for him, remembering that she has 
never assented when her son is pronounced mad, 
believing that she may be the confidante of the 
prince, he suggests that after the play that night, 
when it might be supposed Hamlet and his mother 
could meet and speak with no fear of being over- 
heard, the queen shall send for Hamlet and " all 
alone entreat him to show his grief." His idea is 
to hide and listen to their conference, hoping that 
Hamlet will proclaim his love for Ophelia. Clau- 
dius, whose crimes make him suspicious of even his 
nearest and dearest, assents to this scheme, and 
afterward induces Gertrude to perform her neces- 
sary part in it. The fact that Claudius is willing 
that Polonius shall hear Hamlet's private confes- 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 179 

t 
sion to his mother, helps us to determine the extent 

of the councilor's complicity in his master's crimes. 
Guilty as the king knew himself to be, and fearful 
that Hamlet had some knowledge, or at least a 
strong suspicion, of his guilt, he would have with- 
held the lord chamberlain from the private confer- 
ence of the prince and Gertrude, if Polonius had not 
already known all that Claudius feared might there 
be revealed. In this case too we have to divine the 
thoughts of the actors. Neither Claudius nor Pol- 
onius utters them, but we see what the former fears, 
and we appreciate the service that Polonius will 
render him, when he repeats the revelation Hamlet 
makes. Polonius is completely the tool of Claudius 
when he is needed for any dirty work, and he, in 
turn, uses his sovereign for his purposes. Each 
understands and has taken the measure of the 
other, and Polonius presumes on his knowledge 
of Claudius's depraved nature when he invites 
him to become an eavesdropper, and asks for 
a commission to listen in the closet of the 
queen. 

The report of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, the 
interview of Hamlet and Ophelia, and the conversa- 
tion between Claudius and the old councilor, each 
succeeded the other early in the day. No other 
action is represented until the evening. We know 
that Hamlet has finally renounced Ophelia, and we 
recognize that the result of the mock-play, if he 
present it, will assure him that he has not erred in 
his condemnation of his mother and of the king. 



180 HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 

We do not know what his decision will be — he 
interrupted himself in the consideration of the sub- 
ject — but his line of reasoning would naturally 
conduct him to a determination to apply the touch- 
stone. We believe that he will put the matter to 
the test, in the way he had devised, and this belief 
is confirmed on his next appearance. 



XVII. 

When we next see Hamlet, he enters a hall in 
the castle — probably the apartment in which we saw 
him first — in company with the players, and con- 
tinues the instructions he had already given the 
First Player about the inserted speech, thus inform- 
ing the audience that the play is to be. His words 
do not show any agitation, or incoherence, he ex- 
hibits no undue haste, but, with his nerves perfectly 
under control, he gives the players a lesson in the 
art of elocution. As he dismisses them Polonius 
enters, with Guildenstern and Rosencrantz, to tell 
him that the king and queen are ready to hear the 
play ; he sends the three to hasten the preparations 
of the players, and thus secures a means to speak 
without auditors to Horatio, to whom he had al- 
ready told the circumstances of his father's death, 
but not, I am sure, his suspicions about his mother. 
After justifying the demand he is about to make, 
by assuring Horatio that he wears him in his heart 
of hearts and dearly loves him, he asks of his recip- 
rocal friendship a favor. He says : 

There is a play to-night before the king ; 
One scene of it comes near the circumstance 
Which I have told thee of my father's death : 
I prithee, when thou seest that act afoot, 
181 



i8 2 THE TRUE STORY OF 

Even with the very comment of thy soul 

Observe mine uncle : if his occulted guilt 

Do not itself unkennel in one speech, 

It is a damned ghost that we have seen, 

And my imaginations are as foul 

As Vulcan's stithy. Give him heedful note ; 

For I mine eyes will rivet to his face, 

And after we will both our judgements join 

In censure of his seeming. 

Horatio, who is not so absolute a believer in the re- 
liability of the ghost, falls in with Hamlet's humor, 
and says : 

Well, my lord : 
If he steal aught the whilst this play is playing, 
And 'scape detecting, I will pay the theft. 

The Danish march is heard, and Hamlet says : 

They are coming to the play ; I must be idle : 
Get you a place. 

The king and queen, Polonius and Ophelia, Rosen- 
crantz and Guildenstern, these and many more, en- 
ter and take their places to see the play. Claudius 
greets Hamlet with treacherous cordiality, but Ham- 
let disdains to feign friendliness, and the report of 
his insanity furnishes him with a most effectual 
means to disguise his feelings. Not against the king, 
however ; the king knows that Hamlet is not mad, 
and the insolence of his answer stings him, but he 
turns it aside, appearing not to see its pertinence. 
Hamlet next salutes Polonius. It is his part now.to 
cultivate the belief in his madness; he sees that it 
may be useful to him so soon as the story of the 
ghost is confirmed. Hamlet turns to Polonius, and, 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 183 

as usual, begins to use him for his mirth, but inter- 
rupts himself to ask : 

Be the players ready ? 
Rosencrantz replies : 

Ay, my lord ; they stay upon your patience. 

Gertrude then speaks to Hamlet. She knows the 
others consider him insane, for in a court such 
news flies swiftly; he is not courted as when his 
father was alive ; his reply to the king a moment 
before showed that he is still unreconciled to the 
loss of his kingdom, and her mother's heart speaks 
for him, and tells her to rehabilitate him, at least 
in the consideration of the courtiers. She says: 

Come hither, my dear Hamlet, sit by me. 

but Hamlet answers : 

No, good mother, here's metal more attractive. 

Think how this speech must wring Ophelia's heart. 
She has had time to realize that Hamlet has 
spurned her and abused her, in the hearing of the 
king and of her father ; she has recalled the bitter 
words he used, and she fears his madness may allow 
him now to flout her, in the face of all the court. 
She does not hope this honeyed speech may be an 
indication of returning love — her hope is dead — 
and when Hamlet asks: 

Lady, shall I lie in your lap ? 
she says : 

No, my lord. 

Even were she not possessed by the feeling of out- 
raged modesty, she would prefer that he should 



184 THE TRUE STORY OF 

place himself at a greater distance ; self-control will 
be hard enough under any circumstances, but close 
proximity to her lost lover is almost unendurable. 
Hamlet, however, disregards this feeling, and says : 

I mean, my head upon your lap ? 

and Ophelia replies quickly : 

Ay, my lord. [I know what your meaning was.] 

but Hamlet wilfully misunderstands this answer, 
and, taking it for an assent to his request, he lies 
down at her feet, and begins the conversation which 
we hear, though king and court do not, as it is 
spoken with Ophelia apart. To them he wishes still 
to seem the lover of the maiden ; he thinks the king 
believes he loves her, and he delights to deceive 
Claudius and old Polonius. For the audience, 
although Hamlet has made choice of his seat with 
flattering words, they know he did not mean them, 
and they hear his conversation with Ophelia, which 
indicates the extreme of familiar contemptuousness 
and disrespect. I wish that Hamlet had not thus 
abused her, and I thank our modern Hamlets that 
they do not now compel us to listen to the repeti- 
tion of this coarseness on the stage. It is a blot 
on Hamlet's fair escutcheon. Ophelia tries to 
make him speak only of the play, but nothing can 
screen her from his dreadful witticisms. Had she 
not believed him mad, and not responsible for his 
wild words, she might have gone to Gertrude for 
protection, but her love forgave him every blow he 
dealt her, for she thought it was his madness 
prompted them. We can not excuse Hamlet as 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 185 

she did; the only palliation of his fault is this: he 
intended to make Ophelia fully comprehend that 
his conversation with her in the morning was not 
the ravings of frenzy only: he meant so to talk to 
her that she should become disgusted, and want to 
separate herself from him. He insulted her at 
every opportunity, but his own words to the queen 
after the play, he might as fitly have used now: " I 
must be cruel only to be kind." While his abuse 
really manifested his opinion of Ophelia, it was 
regard for her that made him express, instead of 
concealing it. He hoped she would excuse it from 
her belief in his madness, but he desired to make 
her think that madness only revealed his true 
nature. He manifested incoherence purposely in 
his conversation with her, so that she might finally 
have the refuge of this belief. He wanted, if pos- 
sible, to alienate her affection from him in order to 
save her from suffering under the separation his 
self-respect had decreed. 

The mock-play goes on. The dumb show pre- 
ceding it alarms the king, but he controls himself, 
only asking Hamlet, when the lines become very 
pertinent : 

Have you heard the argument ? Is there no offence in't ? 

Finally the crucial moment arrives. Hamlet's im- 
patience compels him to cry out: 

Begin, murderer ; pox, leave thy damnable faces, and begin. 

then, fearing this confession of deep interest may 
excite surprise, he adds : 

Come: 'the croaking raven doth bellow for revenge.' 



186 THE TRUE STORY OF 

He hopes by this ranting garbled quotation from 
the old play of Richard the Third, to make his 
whole outcry seem a piece of unmeaning bombast. 
There is yet a possibility that his uncle is innocent, 
and, in that case, there is no reason why Hamlet 
should feel any undue agitation at the death of a 
king, killed by poison while sleeping in a garden ; 
therefore he controls himself, and listens while Lu- 
cianus repeats his invocation, before pouring the 
poison into the sleeper's ears. Then, with his eyes 
riveted to the king's face, speaking loud enough 
for Claudius to hear, by a mighty effort he calmly 
continues, to Ophelia, his former exposition of the 
play: 

He poisons him i' the garden for's estate. His name's Gon- 
zago : the story is extant, and writ in choice Italian : you shall 
see anon how the murderer gets the love of Gonzago's wife. 

I am sure that in speaking these words Hamlet 
showed his agitation only by his clenched hands 
and fixed eyes. He continued to gaze on Claudius, 
who slowly rose, as Lucianus's guarded motions 
renewed before him the particulars of his crime, 
and, even when the king was fully on his feet, 
paralyzed by the fear that his crime was discovered, 
Hamlet still continued to gaze upon him, waiting for 
some word of confession. It is Ophelia who first, 
after Hamlet, notices the king's agitation ; all the 
others are so intent on the slow approaches and 
cautious movements of the player, that they do not 
observe the disquietude of their sovereign. Ophe- 
lia's wondering exclamation : 

The king rises. 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 187 

startles Hamlet from the intentness of his observa- 
tion, and his sensation of triumph at having finally 
confirmed the story of the ghost expresses itself in 
the almost exultant cry: 

What, frighted with false fire ! 

That cry proclaims war to the knife between the 
king and Hamlet, but the play, without it, would 
have done so, and he is now prepared to meet the 
issue. He knows the apparition was his father's 
spirit, and at last he feels ready, at any cost, to obey 
its dread command. Nothing he can now say to his 
mother, nothing he can do to his uncle will be more 
than they deserve. 



XVIII. 

The courtiers go out with the king; and Hamlet, 
left alone with Horatio, turns to him, and, in some 
rhymed lines, that are intended to seem a part of 
some old ballad recalled by the running away of all 
the others, gives a partial vent to his so long con- 
trolled excitement. Now, as after the revelation of 
the ghost, Hamlet can not express himself in meas- 
ured words. He, and Horatio, both, are in such a 
state of exaltation that they can not instantly de- 
scend to sober consultation. Hamlet seems to 
ignore the ultimate result of the lines inserted in 
the mock-play, and asks only if he has not proved 
his qualification for " a fellowship in a cry of play- 
ers." Again he quotes a foolish rhyme, which gives 
Horatio a chance to make a pointed allusion to 
Claudius, and thus bring the subject they must next 
consider immediately before them. Hamlet then 
shudderingly says: 

O good Horatio, I'll take the ghost's word for a thousand 
pound. Didst perceive ? 

and Horatio, the balance-wheel, more calmly re- 
plies : 

Very well, my lord. 

Upon the talk of the poisoning? 

continues the poor prince ; and Horatio gently in- 
terrupts him, saying: 

I did very well note him. 

188 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 189 

Thus far the conversation is a not unnatural expres- 
sion of the feelings possessing both Horatio and 
Hamlet, but the succeeding words seem to disclose 
more than this ; they seem inexplicable on any 
other theory than absolute loss of reason in Hamlet. 
It does not seem that a sane man would start away 
from a serious and confidential conversation with 
his bosom friend, and suddenly exclaim : 

Ah, ha! Come, some music ! come, the recorders! 
For if the king like not the comedy, 
Why then, belike, he likes it not, perdy. 

Come, some music ! 

yet this Hamlet does, and thus he furnishes to the 
advocates of the theory of his madness their strong- 
est argument against his sanity. How can we, who 
know that he was always sane, explain these " wild 
and whirling words?" The Folio and the First 
Quarto explain them for us. In them both, Rosen- 
crantz and Guildenstern are represented as entering 
while Hamlet is speaking to Horatio, and before he 
says, "Ah ha! Come, some music." If we recall 
the conversation the prince held with his two school- 
fellows when Polonius's entrance cut short their 
talk about his madness, we shall remember that, as 
Polonius appeared, Hamlet said aloud, and meaning 
the old man should hear him, although his speech 
had no connection with anything he had said 
before : 

" You say right, sir: o' Monday morning; 'twas so indeed." 

This case is a parallel to that. Hamlet is talking to 
Horatio on a subject he can discuss with him only ; 



i 9 o THE TRUE STORY OF 

he sees the entrance of Rosencrantz and Guilden- 
stern, and pretending that his speech with Horatio 
is of no importance, he breaks off, as if the subject 
was an indifferent one, and calls for music; then, 
fearing they may have heard some of his last words, 
he boldly introduces his uncle's name in the care- 
less rhyme : 

For if the king like not the comedy, 

[comedy he calls it !] 

Why then, belike, he likes it not, perdy. 

It is very easy to see how the stage direction, 
Enter Rosincrance and Guildensterne, has shifted from 
its proper place, (mistakes in the placing of the 
stage directions is the most frequent fault made by 
the old editors, and by modern ones) but it is dif- 
ficult to realize that it is not now restored. The 
early editors, those preceding 1 770, seem to have 
placed it where it should be, but in all modern edi- 
tions I have consulted it is dislocated. In the First 
Quarto the lines read : 

Hor* I Horatio, i'le take the Ghofts word 

For more than all the coyne in Denmarke. 

Enter Roffeticraft and Gilder/tone. 

Roff. Now my lord, how if 't with you ? 
Ham. And if the king like not the tragedy, 

Why then belike he likes it not perdy. 
Roff. We are very glad to fee your grace fo pleasant, 

My good lord, let vs againe intreate 

To know of you the ground and caufe of your distem- 
perature. 

*Hor. is evidently a mistake, for Hamlet addresses Horatio. 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 191 

The Second Quarto reads as our modern edi- 
tions do : 

Ham. Vpon the taike of the poyfning. 

Hor. I did very well note him. 

Ham. Ah ha, come fome mufique, come the Recorders, 

For if theKing like not the Comedie, 

Why then belike he likes it not perdy. 
Come, fome mufique. 

Enter Rofencrans and Guyldensterne. 
Guyl. Good my Lord, voutfafe me a word with you. 

The Folio says : 

Ham. Upon the talke of the poysoning ? 
Hora. I did verie well note him. 

E7iter Rosincrance and Guildensteme. 
Ham. Oh, ha ? Come some Musicke. Come y e Recorders : 

For if the King like not the Comedie, 

Why then belike he likes it not perdie. 

Come some Musicke. 
Guild. Good my Lord, vouch fafe me a word with you. 

These are the three authorities from which our 
modern editions are made up : two agree in making 
the entrance of the two spies precede Hamlet's 
sudden call for music, and his rhyme about the king. 
The Folio, which is assumed to present the play in 
its most perfect form, makes the entrance of the 
spies precede the call for music, and prints the 
words "Oh, 'ha?" with an interrogation point, as 
much as to say, ' Oh, you are there, are you ? ' and 
then follow the words, " Come, some music." I think 
this is the reading we ought to adopt. Hamlet's 
call for music, and his abrupt breaking away from a 
serious conversation without apparent cause, has 



192 THE TRUE STORY OF 

been a stumbling-block that the believers in his 
sanity have found it impossible to remove : they 
knew that he was sane, and they have stuck to that, 
though unable to explain away what looked like 
madness. This reading furnishes the explanation 
of these words in this place, and the introduction of 
a like irrelevant speech in the conversation with 
Polonius, the day before, furnishes the precedent for 
them. 

The " spaniels," as Marshall calls them, though he 
thus dishonors a most honest dog, have come to 
summon Hamlet to his mother's closet. They have 
not yet been at court two days, but they have 
plainly seen already that Hamlet's star is a descend- 
ing one ; they have in this short time advanced 
from the position of school-fellow and friend to 
that of guardian, and they now appear as mentors, 
ready to tutor Hamlet for his late disrespect to the 
king and queen ; transcending their office, which 
was only to summon him to his mother's presence. 
His sarcastic, ironical answers to their impertinent 
remarks disconcert them, and almost touch their 
hearts; they at least remind Rosencrantz that Ham- 
let has a heart, and, to entrap his friend he appeals 
to it, saying : 

My lord, you once did love me. 

Hamlet's reply is exactly what the spies deserve : 

So I do still, by these pickers and stealers. 

The first part of the answer — so I do still — dis- 
arms their anxiety by asserting that his love still 
cherishes them ; and the end, with its adjuration, 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 193 

not " by this hand " which Hamlet honors, but 
" by these pickers and stealers " — the insignia of a 
thief — again arouses it. The union of earnestness 
and mockery so distorts the answer that its hearers 
are disconcerted by it, and are compelled to let the 
subject pass, and finally to proclaim their office by 
asking : 

Good my lord, what is your cause of distemper ? you do, 
surely, bar the door upon your own liberty, if you deny your 
griefs to your friend. 

This is a threat, but Hamlet does not instantly 
resent it ; he seems to answer Rosencrantz with the 
grave words : 

Sir, I lack advancement. 

Guildenstern had withdrawn from the conversa- 
tion in anger, when Hamlet, with such mock 
earnestness, ironically asserted, " my wit's dis- 
eased," but, when the recorders were brought in 
he drew near to the prince again. Just what his 
intention was we can not tell, but Hamlet, resent- 
ing his sullen exhibition of disrespect and ill-tem- 
per, carried the war at once into Africa, and rebuked 
him for pressing so close upon him. Guildenstern, 
surprised by the attack, tried to evade it by a 
counter complaint — a whine : 

O, my lord, if my duty be too bold, my love is too unmannerly. 

meaning, l as my duty, in your opinion, made me 
too bold, so you now think my love, which led me 
to come near to you, is too unmannerly. You did 
not treat me kindly when I tried to do my duty and 
deliver your mother's message, and you are again 



i 9 4 THE TRUE STORY OF 

displeased because my love led me to approach 
your side too closely.' Hamlet disdains to answer 
to this accusation, and puts it aside with gentleness 
and self-control ; and then, urging his two keepers 
to play upon the pipe, he discovers, even to their 
jaundiced minds, how unworthy they must seem to 
every honest man. In all this interview Hamlet 
exhibits perfect self-control, a quick and biting wit, 
an honesty of purpose that will not disguise itself 
in lies, and a scathing sarcasm that scorches every 
spot it touches. The exaltation of his spirits con- 
tinues through it all ; every sense seems sharper 
and more active than ever before ; and, when Pol- 
onius enters, impatient because the two friends 
have stayed so long, Hamlet greets him with a 
quick, " God bless you, sir S " and, as soon as he has 
discharged himself of his message, begins to turn 
him into ridicule ; partly for the gratification of his 
own feeling against him, and partly to show the 
audience how thorough a courtier the old chamber- 
lain is. Polonius would not for the world displease 
his son-in-law, the crown prince — before he has se- 
cured him — and he agrees with each vagary of 
Hamlet's vision, seeing first a camel, then a weasel, 
then a whale, where Hamlet points them out upon 
the canvas of the sky. Having convinced himself 
that Polonius will lie to humor him, Hamlet indi- 
cates to the audience that this was his intent 
in pretending to see these cloud-monsters. He 
says : 

They fool me to the top of my bent. 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 195 

and then, resuming his native dignity, he dismisses 
the chamberlain by a repetition of the answer he 
had already given hirn : 

f will come by and by. 

Turning then to the players who had brought in 
the recorders, and to Horatio, ignoring the two 
spies, he quietly says : 

Leave me, friends. 

and all, passing out, leave him at last alone. His 
spirits are falling; a grim determination takes the 
place of his late elation, and his only desire is to 
make, or seize, an opportunity to kill the king. He 
wonders that his father's spirit does not again ap- 
pear to urge him to the vengeance which he now 
believes is so well deserved, but he knows that the 
certainty of his uncle's guilt has banished com- 
punction from his mind forever. He says : 

'Tis now the very witching time of night, 

When churchyards yawn and hell itself breathes out 

Contagion to this world : now could I drink hot blood, 

And do such bitter business as the day 

Would quake to look on. Soft ! Now to my mother. 

heart, lose not thy nature ; let not ever 
The soul of Nero enter this firm bosom : 
Let me be cruel, not unnatural : 

1 will speak daggers to her, but use none ; 
My tongue and soul in this be hypocrites ; 
How in my words soever she be shent, 

To give them seals never, my soul, consent ! 



XIX. 

UNTIL now Hamlet has avoided the queen. His 
love, and his contempt, his natural reverence for his 
mother, and his obligation to his father, have so dis- 
tressed him while he was undetermined whether the 
ghost spoke truth, that he could not decide on any 
bearing toward her that would not either express a 
lie, or else reveal his doubts of her purity. Now 
his way is clear. She is an erring woman, and his 
first duty, to his father and to her, is to replace her 
feet in the path of virtue. He goes to the interview 
with his mother feeling that the blessing of Heaven 
accompanies him, and that he has received his com- 
mission not only from his earthly father, but from 
his Heavenly one ; no doubt or fear assails him ; he 
goes believing her more guilty than she really is, 
thinking she had assented to the murder of his 
father. In the First Quarto it is made clear that 
this was not the case, though from the Folio we can 
only infer her innocence. 

While Hamlet is going from the hall in which the 
play was acted to his mother's apartments, we see 
Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, who have returned 
to the king. Claudius has recovered his self-control, 
and has elaborated his scheme for self-protection: 
he intends to send Hamlet at once to England in 
charge of his two school-fellows, who shall bear a 

196 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 197 

mandate from Denmark to England, desiring Ham- 
let's instant murder the moment he arrives in the 
island. He bids Rosencrantz and Guildenstern to 
prepare immediately for the voyage, and they has- 
ten from his presence to arm themselves for it. As 
I have said before, Shakespeare leaves us in doubt 
whether or not the two friends knew the contents 
of the letter they were to bear. I incline to think 
they did not know them, and Horatio's impartial 
mind seems to have held the same opinion. When 
Hamlet, later, tells him how he had changed the 
packets and sent his school-fellows to their death, 
Horatio says, with a touch of deprecating sadness : 

So Guildenstern and Rosencrantz go to 't, 

and Hamlet strives to reassure him and justify him- 
self by saying: 

Why, man, they did make love to this employment. 

I think they did not know the contents of the 
packet, else would they not have delivered the com- 
mission after Hamlet had escaped from them ; but 
I believe that had Claudius exposed his plan to 
them (which he was much too cautious to do), and 
given them his reasons for it, they would still have 
been the willing instruments of his villainy. They 
really were convinced that Hamlet was mad, and 
believed as Rosencrantz said, that, 

The single and peculiar life is bound, 
With all the strength and armour of the mind, 
To keep itself from noyance ; but much more 
That spirit upon whose weal depend and rest 
The lives of many. 



198 THE TRUE STORY OF 

As the two sycophants leave Claudius to prepare 
themselves for the voyage, Polonius enters, and, 
after telling the king that Hamlet is going to his 
mother's closet, he also goes to hide and listen to 
their conversation. 

When Polonius departs the king is at last at lib- 
erty to throw aside the mask of comparative in- 
difference he has so bravely worn, and, to our 
surprise, we see that it does not cover a nature 
entirely callous. Claudius's conscience is awake to 
the knowledge that he owes a heavy debt to the 
King of kings. The simulated murder in the mock- 
play has recalled all the particulars of his own 
guilt, and he sees his crime in the light in which it 
must be viewed by God and man. No fear of 
earthly punishment distresses him, he feels that he 
is strong enough to cope with all the powers of 
earth ; but conscience makes a coward of him, and 
the dread of something after death — the inevit- 
able retribution of a just God — cows his imperial 
spirit. 

He knows the way that he must take to restore 
himself to amity with heaven, but it is a strait 
and narrow one, through which he can carry no 
ravished kingdom, no adulterous queen, and these 
he is not ready to resign. He knows he is not 
ready to repent — repentance entails restoration — 
but this man's wicked nature is so strong, and has 
so long controlled the forces surrounding him, that 
he now attempts to juggle with his Maker and his 
own conscience. He kneels to pray for mercy, hav- 
ing first determined not to pay the price exacted for 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 199 

it ; hoping some royal road to heaven may yet be 
found for him ; hoping that even without repent- 
ance " All may be well." 

While Claudius is on his knees apparently lost in 
supplication, Hamlet passes through the apartment 
to reach his mother's. He perceives the king, as he 
supposes, rapt in prayer, and his first impulse is to 
kill him there, while he is unconscious of his justly 
merited doom. He rushes toward him drawing his 
sword, but the swift thought that his uncle is in 
communion with heaven, and that a sudden death 
might only make that communion more intimate 
and perfect, stays his hand. 

It is not doubt or cowardice that now withholds 
Hamlet, else could he not have killed Polonius sup- 
posing him to be the king hidden behind the arras. 
His former fear has chiefly been that by killing him 
he might commit injustice, but he is at last assured 
that his uncle deserves death. This thought re- 
strains him — that Claudius might escape damnation 
if despatched while his soul, the immortal part of 
him, is united in prayer with its Maker. 

It has been objected that Shakespeare here 
makes Hamlet too bloodthirsty : critics contend 
that it is more than a legitimate revenge that would 
destroy both soul and body ; but Hamlet did not 
think so. He had too long thought of the ghost as 
sometimes the devil himself, sometimes his father's 
suffering spirit, to be willing that Claudius should 
escape one tittle of the punishment to which his 
father had been sent. Besides, Shakespeare found 
the precedent for this " fiendishness," as Dr. John- 



200 THE TRUE STORY OF 

son thought it, on page 303 of the old Hystorie, in 
these words of Hamlet: 

And reason requireth, that euen as trayterously 
they then caused their prince to bee put to death, 
that with the like (nay well much more) iustice 
they should pay the interest of their fellonious 
actions. 

You know (Madame) how Hother your grand- 
father, and father to the good King Roderick, 
hauing vanquished Guimon, caused him to be 
burnt, for that the cruel vilain had done the like to 
his lord Geuare, whom he betrayed in the night 
time. 

and on p. 317 he says, just after he has killed the 
wicked king : 

now go thy wayes, and when thou commest in hell, 
see that thou forget not to tell thy brother (whom 
thou trayterously slewest) that , It was his sonne 
that sent thee thither with the message. 

Hamlet was not even willing to give his uncle 
a grave ; he advised the Danes : 

burne his abhominable body, boyle his lasciuious 
members, and cast the ashes of him that hath beene 
hurtfull to all the world, into the ayre. 

This is the state of mind Shakespeare bestows on 
our young Hamlet, who knew his father had been 
sent to hell, and was unwilling to allow his mur- 
derer a chance to go to heaven. 

In the Hystorie, on page 287, is also found the ex- 
planation of some other of his words on this occa- 
sion ; words which, critics say, and rightly too, are not 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 201 

justified by anything in the play. While Hamlet 
is contemplating his uncle he says : 

He took my father grossly full of bread. 
This information was derived, not from the ghost, nor 
from the First Quarto. The First Quarto says: 

He tooke my father fleeping. 
Shakespeare, when he re -wrote the play, found the 
statement in the following lines of the old novel : 

But Fengon, . . .Horuendile, his brother being at a 
banquet with his friends, sodainely set vpon him, 
where he slewe him, etc. 

Must we not admit that the influence of the Hys- 
torie on this Tragedy has too contemptuously been 
set aside ? 

Hamlet does spare his uncle when he finds him 
on his knees in prayer, and critics find in this delay 
only another justification of their assertion that 
irresolution and inability to act controlled him. 
Let us suppose that he had killed the king then, 
what would have been the result? Hamlet would 
have been seized, the indications of his madness 
would all have been produced against him, and he 
would have been confined in Bedlam, if he had suc- 
ceeded in escaping instant death. This would have 
been *the immediate result ; another would have 
been that which Hamlet's fears had foreseen as soon 
as he received the revelation. Gertrude, being un- 
convinced that the king was a murderer, would 
have believed her son insane, and would have 
mourned Claudius as his innocent victim. Claudius's 
death would be useless to secure the repose of the 



202 HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 

ghost, or to effect the fulfilling of his command — 
Gertrude would still be united in heart to her sedu- 
cer. But this would not have been represented for 
us : we know it would ensue, but the play would end 
with Hamlet's removal ; there would no longer ex- 
ist material to continue it. Let us be thankful then 
that Hamlet withheld his hand, even though the 
reason he advanced for doing so was a heathenish 
one: we should condemn him still more had any 
fear for his own ultimate safety influenced him. 
From the moment the king rises " frighted with 
false fire," Hamlet is ready and eager to obey the 
ghost's command ; he is prepared in mind, and 
body, and in spirit, to kill the king, but killing him 
would not fulfill the obligation imposed upon him : 
he must make Gertrude see the error of her ways, 
and his first action, after the play, is directed to that 
end. He allows the king to live until he shall be 
" about some act that hath no relish of salvation 
in't," and proceeds to his mother's closet. 



XX. 

The fourth scene of the third act discovers Ger- 
trude and Polonius in conversation. Polonius is 
urging her to reprove her son sharply, but I think 
Gertrude did not know that the chamberlain meant 
to listen to this reproof. It is true that in most of 
the modern editions he says : 

I'll sconce me even here ; 

but there is not, in my opinion, sufficient warrant 
for this change from the Second Quarto and the 
Folio. In both of these he says : 

I'll silence me even here. 

It is true that in the First Quarto Polonius di- 
rectly addresses Gertrude, saying: 

Madame, I heare yong Hamlet comming, 
I'le fhrowde my felfe behinde the Arras. 

and, in the First Quarto, in the scene in which the 
plan is first expressed, it is to the queen and not to 
the king, that he says : 

Madam, fend you in hafte to fpeake with him, 

And I my felfe will ftand behind the Arras, 

There queftion you the caufe of all his griefe, 

And then in loue and nature vnto you, hee'le tell you all : 

My Lord, how thinke you on't ? 

It is on the authority of this knowledge of Ger- 
trude, expressed in Quarto^ that modern critics 

203 



2o 4 THE TRUE STORY OF 

have changed Polonius's words, but the Folio 
should be our guide, especially when it agrees with 
the Second Quarto, which we are absolutely sure 
was Shakespeare's work, and when we make any 
change from it we are bound to be consistent. In 
the Folio and in the Second Quarto, Polonius ad- 
dresses the king — not Gertrude — when Gertrude 
is not present, and suggests that he shall be a hid- 
den witness to the interview between her son and 
her. Afterward, in a passage that has no parallel 
in the First Quarto, Polonius attributes to the king 
the inception of the scheme, saying : 

My lord, he's going to his mother's closet : 

Behind the arras I'll convey myself, 

To hear the process ; I'll warrant she'll tax him home: 

And, as you said, and wisely was it said, 

'Tis meet that some more audience than a mother, 

Since nature makes them partial, should o'erhear 

The speech, of vantage. Fare you well, my iiege : 

I'll call upon you ere you go to bed, 

And tell you what I know. 

The idea which possesses both Claudius and the 
chamberlain is, that Gertrude, since Nature makes 
mothers partial, should be spied upon, so that if 
she does not divulge the subject of Hamlet's con- 
versation it may yet be known. Shakespeare in. 
serted this speech and made the change of idea 
from the First Quarto because the old Hystorie, 
p. 302, makes Gertrude say : 

Thou seest there is not almost any man wherein 
thou mayest put thy trust, nor any woman to 
whom I dare vtter the least part of my secrets, that 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 205 ■ 

would not presently report it to thine aduersarie, 
who, although in outward shew he dissembleth to 
love thee, the better to injoy his pleasures of me, 
yet hee distrustetrtand feareth mee for thy sake, and 
is not so simple to be easily perswaded, that thou 
art a foole or mad. 

Polonius hastens from the king to tell the queen 
that Hamlet is at hand : he enters Gertrude's 
closet, and hurriedly delivers his advice. She too, 
is nervous, desiring that Polonius shall not hear 
any part of her interview with her son, and fearing 
that Hamlet may come in before he leaves. Her 
impatience of his presence is so plain that he re- 
treats saying, not, 

I'll sconce me even here, 
but, 

I'll silence me even here; 
that is ; 

[I have done ; I'll talk no more now.] 

Shakespeare himself made the change from the 
First to the Second Quarto, and made other 
changes to accord with it, and it seems to me that 
when his meaning is so plain he should not be 
" improved " by anybody. The choice of words, 
and so of facts, is important because it helps us to 
judge of Claudius's and of Gertrude's characters. 

If Claudius places Polonius here without the 
knowledge and consent of Gertrude, it proves that 
he suspects the queen, and is not absolutely sure 
even of her affection for him : it proves that " his 
shameful lust " was one of the tools by which he 



206 THE TRUE STORY OF 

gratified his unscrupulous ambition. His words to 
Laertes — 

The queen his mother 
Lives almost by his looks ; and for myself — 
My virtue or my plague, be it either which — 
She's so conjunctive to my life and soul, 
That, as the star moves not but in his sphere, 
I could not but by her — 

do not ring true, and all his treatment of Hamlet 
indicates indifference to the queen's desires. If we 
know that, distrustful of Gertrude, he allow r s Pol- 
onius to spy upon her and Hamlet, we are pre- 
pared for the callousness he afterwards exhibits 
when he plans to kill her son, and calmly sees her 
quaff the poisoned draught. 

And Gertrude ? There could be no reason why Ger- 
trude should want Polonius present though unseen. 
She did not believe her son was mad, and she was 
not afraid of him. She meant to rebuke Hamlet 
for his disrespect in allowing the production of the 
mock-play, which had publicly censured her for her 
second marriage, and she feared that her son, now 
that he had potentially broken his rule of silence, 
might defend himself, and, to do so, might again 
express his feelings at her unfaithfulness to his 
father. For her own sake she naturally was unwill- 
ing that Polonius should overhear their conversa- 
tion, but, besides, she would have been a traitor to 
her son — whom, after all, she dearly loved — if, 
knowing it herself, she had allowed him to remain 
ignorant that any one was in hiding. 

The Hystorie explicitly declares that neither Ger- 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 207 

trude nor Hamlet knew that the chamberlain was a 
hidden listener, and I believe Shakespeare meant us 
to understand it so ; but this belief will constrain the 
actors who personate them to alter their " business " 
in this scene. 

I believe that Hamlet's mind was in a condition 
of great excitement and his nerves in a state of ex- 
treme sensibility, his muscles responding promptly 
and vigorously to any message from his brain. 
When the queen called for help, and Polonius cried 
out from behind the arras, Hamlet, instantly on 
hearing the cry, on an unformulated impulse, drew 
his sword and thrust it though the hanging in the 
direction of the sound. Polonius was hastening 
toward the opening through which he could reach 
the queen, and his onward motion, even as Hamlet 
lunged through the curtain, and his fall, must-have 
wrenched the sword from the prince's hand. This 
action occupied only a moment, not much more 
time than was needed for Hamlet to cry : 

How now ! A rat ? 

and, as his sword is drawn from his grasp by Polo- 
nius's fall, Hamlet, turning towards his father's por- 
trait, as if offering the result of his sword-thrust 
to him, should throw his arms heaven-ward with the 
triumphant cry : 

Dead, for a ducat, dead ! 

He believes that the eavesdropper was the king, 
and that his task is accomplished. Claudius's 
presence here must prove to Gertrude that he is 
unworthy! 



208 THE TRUE STORY OF 

Hamlet should remain fixed in this attitude of 
prayer and thankfulness, while his mother runs to 
lift the arras, crying as she goes : 

O me, what hast thou done ? 

The stage direction, Lifts up the arras and discovers 
Polonins. — is not found in the Quartos or the Folio : 
it has been inserted in Hamlet's part by modern ed- 
itors, and inserted in the wrong place. The queen, 
not Hamlet, should lift the hanging, before she ex- 
claims : 

O, what a rash and bloody deed is this ! 

I feel sure that thousands of wives and mothers, 
looking on at the play, have revolted at Gertrude's 
represented apathy when her son's undiscerning 
sword lets out this unknown life. Gertrude does 
not stand motionless; she runs toward the spot ; she 
pushes back the hanging ; her heart fears that Clau- 
dius has been pierced by Hamlet's blade ; and, as 
she hastens to find out the truth, she expresses to 
the audience that she does not know who was in 
hiding, by the cry : 

O me, what hast thou done ? 

To this question Hamlet replies : 

Nay, I know not : 

then, as his mother remains speechless, gazing upon 
the corse that is discovered to her eyes, but not to 
his, like lightning he reflects that but a moment 
since he had left his uncle absorbed in prayer; he 
had come instantly to his mother's chamber; there 
had been no time for Claudius to conceal himself: 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 209 

the fear breaks in upon him that his exultation has 
been premature, and, unable to submit to the doubt, 
he turns toward Gertrude as she bends over the dead 
body of Polonius; calling out in his intolerable sus- 
pense : 

Is it the king ? 

When Hamlet stands beside his mother, looking 
down on the dead councilor, she turns on him ex- 



claiming 



O, what a rash and bloody deed is this ! 

and he, disappointed because his blade has miscar- 
ried, instead of lamenting in words what his heart 
is mourning over, rebukes her for rebuking him. 
Then he stands speechless gazing upon the dead 
body of Ophelia's father, — dead by his hand ; and 
through his mind courses the recollection of Polo- 
nius's action in placing the crown on Claudius's 
head; of his perverted judgment which led him to 
seclude Ophelia ; of his officiousness; and, finally, 
the realization that Polonius was here, in his mother's 
closet — a spot that should have been a sanctuary — 
to spy upon her unhappy son as he exposed his an- 
guished soul to her who should have been his secur- 
est confidante. Still, when he speaks, his words 
express not anger, but sorrow — sorrow seasoned by 
contempt. 

Thou wretched, rash, intruding fool, farewell ! 

(he says) 

I took thee for thy better : take thy fortune : 
Thou find'st to be too busy is some danger." 



2io HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 

The sight of Gertrude's agitation recalls the object 
with which he had come to her, and which, alas ! 
is not yet accomplished ; and he dismisses all 
thought of the dead councilor, and of his own 
part in his death, and begins the work of leading his 
mother to repentance. Hamlet's was one of those 
excitable natures that could lash itself into a fury, 
and we see, as he proceeds in his arraignment of his 
mother, how his feelings are intensified. Gertrude 
has not believed her son was mad ; but, when he 
seems to threaten her with violence and in a sudden 
access of frenzy kills the unseen eavesdropper, and 
finally holds converse with the " incorporal air," she 
is at last convinced that the others have been right, 
and expresses this in her heart-broken cry : 

Alas, he's mad ! 

No one has such good reason now as Gertrude for be- 
lieving her son insane, but Hamlet is able first to 
beat down and set aside this conclusion, and after- 
ward to induce his mother to unite with him in im- 
posing on the king the belief that he is really de- 
ranged, — a belief that she no longer entertains. She 
agrees to this, in part because Hamlet demands it, 
and in part to save him from the consequences she 
fears he has incurred in killing Polonius. 



XXI. 

A GREAT deal has been written about Shakespeare's 
intention in shutting Gertrude's senses to the pres- 
ence of the ghost. It has been said that only Ham- 
let saw it, because its mission was to him alone ; 
why then had Horatio and the sentinels seen and 
heard it on its previous appearances? It has been 
said that Gertrude's guilt shut her eyes to the pres- 
ence of an inhabitant of the other world ; but this 
was not a blessed spirit, a ministering angel? It has 
been said that the ghost was but a subjective one, 
the creation of Hamlet's heated brain ; but Shakes- 
peare need not make it visible to the audience in 
order to prove that Hamlet thought he saw it. I 
think we must conclude that the ghost was Shakes- 
peare's creation, and that he governed it, and not 
the ghost Shakespeare ; as when he introduced super- 
natural elements in other plays he created and con- 
trolled them. The witches in Macbeth, Banquo's 
ghost, the vision of the kings, Caesar's ghost, these 
he operated as he pleased, revealing and concealing 
them as seemed best. In The Tempest, Act. III. Sc. 
III., Caliban and Stephano hear the voice of Ariel, 
while Trinculo hears nothing. This is a parallel case 
to Gertrude's insensibility, but we do not conclude 
that Trinculo was more wicked than Caliban, or his 
other companion. Gertrude did not hear the ghost 

211 



212 THE TRUE STORY OF 

because Shakespeare chose that Hamlet, all alone, 
should separate her heart from Claudius, and return 
it to his father. Had she seen that father "in his 
habit as he lived," we could never measure the suc- 
cess achieved by the prince ; — some of it must have 
been attributed to the apparition. But we know 
that Hamlet does not spare his mother until he 
has awakened her conscience, and made her see her 
own depravity — until she begs: 

O Hamlet, speak no more ; 
Thou turn'st mine eyes into my very soul ; 
And there I see such black and grained spots 
As will not leave their tinct. 

O, speak to me no more; 
These words, like daggers, enter in mine ears : 
No more, sweet Hamlet ! 

There is a peculiar pathos in the appearance of 
the ghost at just this juncture of the play. During 
all the evening Hamlet has been thinking intently 
of his father, recalling and reviewing all the circum- 
stances of the ghost's revelation, made two months 
before, but only now proved to be true. We can 
read what his thoughts were before he went to his 
mother's closet : his Fifth Soliloquy discloses them. 
He says : 

'Tis now the very witching time of night, 

When churchyards yawn and hell itself breathes out 

Contagion to this world ; 

and then he waits, listening, watching, and almost 
wishing that hell may again breathe out the un- 
happy spirit to whom he hopes at once to give the 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 213 

rest so long denied it. The recognition of the suf- 
fering endured by his wronged father — suffering 
extended by his son, who had not been able, with- 
out proof, wholly to credit the accusation against 
his mother and his father's brother — so influences 
him that he cries out : 

Now could I drink hot blood, 
And do such bitter business as the day- 
Would quake to look on. 

There should be no doubt that Hamlet was ready 
then, and at every future moment of his life, to kill 
his uncle. He was even tempted to kill his mother 
too, but he remembered that more than vengeance 
was needed to give repose to his father's spirit : he 
must lead Gertrude to renounce her guilty love for 
the king. 

In the light of our knowledge that this was Ham- 
let's condition of mind ; when we reflect that he had 
just spared Claudius's life, because his death while at 
prayer would not have satisfied revenge, and had 
killed Polonius, believing that he was the king, 
engaged in an act that had " no relish of salvation 
in it ;" when we perceive that, at this very moment, 
her son's words were like daggers in the queen's 
ears, it is pitiful to realize that the appearance of 
the ghost brought no relief to Hamlet, no commen- 
dation because he was so well accomplishing the 
most difficult part of his father's behest ; that, on 
the contrary, Hamlet at once felt its antagonism 
and was startled into a sudden prayer for personal 
safety. 



2i 4 THE TRUE STORY OF 

When the apparition first appeared to his friends 
and him, on the platform, Hamlet felt that all were 
equally threatened by its presence, and he prayed : 

Angels and ministers of grace defend us ! 

but on this second appearance the ghost's aspect is 
so different that he is filled with apprehension for 
himself, though not for his mother, and he prays: 

Save me, and hover o'er me with your wings, 
You heavenly guards ! 

Then, tremblingly, he asks : 

What would your gracious figure ? 

but the ghost does not reply. All its regard is fixed 
on Gertrude, and it yearns to be able to comfort the 
suffering queen. As it still keeps silence, and shows 
no sympathy with Hamlet, he again demands: 

Do you not come your tardy son to chide, 
That, lapsed in time and passion, lets go by 
The important acting of your dread command ? 

Hamlet's sensibility persuades him that he has 
carelessly wasted precious opportunities, and he 
has conceived of no other purpose for which the 
ghost should come, except to reproach him for 
delay, and yet its silence and apparent absorption 
in the agitation of the queen suggest that some 
other cause controls it. Hamlet waits patiently for 
a response before he urges an answer to his ques- 
tion, with the words : 

O say ! 

and the ghost, turning at last from its rapt contem- 
plation of Gertrude, unwilling to confess that love 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 215 

for her has brought it there, catches at his sugges- 
tion, and hesitatingly explains : 

Do not forget: this visitation 

Is but to whet thy almost blunted purpose. 

Hamlet's purpose was not blunted : — at that mo- 
ment it was stronger than ever before ; and there 
could be no fear of his forgetting, for, at the in- 
stant, he was pursuing his purpose, and with good 
result. The ghost did not tell the truth : its visita- 
tion was not to Hamlet but to Gertrude ; it came 
solely to protect her, and to moderate the expres- 
sion of Hamlet's feeling against his mother; and 
this should be made to appear unequivocally. 

On the elder Hamlet's first appearance to his son, 
he had plainly shown his still-enduring love for his 
guilty queen ; he had carefully tried to turn the 
sword of Hamlet's vengeance from her. His love 
for her was stronger than death ; even her unfaith- 
fulness could not extinguish it. He desired to be 
revenged on Claudius for the " witchcraft " he had 
employed to wean Gertrude from her husband, not 
for the murder by which he had been ousted from 
the throne. The throne he valued was her heart : 
without Gertrude he could not rest in heaven, and 
separation from her was, in itself, a hell. This was 
plainly indicated on the ghost's first appearance, 
and this, his second coming, still more plainly mani- 
fested the dead king's love. To defend the queen 
he even threatens Hamlet. 

The ghost, on entering, should instantly interpose 
between her son and Gertrude, as if to screen and pro- 



216 THE TRUE STORY OF 

tect her from the pain Hamlet was inflicting on her. 
Its materialization should seem to result entirely 
from an overpowering desire to moderate Hamlet's 
bitterness toward his mother, and it should seem to 
menace the prince because he made his mother suf- 
fer. The ghost believed, if the critics do not, that 
Hamlet was ready to do bitter business, and feared 
that it might be more bitter than it had desired; 
and Hamlet's after-pleadings with his mother were 
much more temperate, his blunted (?) purpose was 
whetted, not to increased virulity against her, but 
to a careful moderation, in compliance with his 
father's desire, conveyed by his loving looks and 
words. 

I know that nothing of this is expressly stated by 
Shakespeare, and this is not the way in which actors 
now represent the ghost, but is not this interpreta- 
tion the only just one we can draw from what is 
stated ? The First Quarto says : Enter the ghost in 
his night gowne, and Hamlet, in the later versions 
sees his father " in his habit as he lived." This in- 
tentionally indicates that the ghost's errand is not 
the same as when he first appeared, armed, cap-a-pie. 
He appears now clad as he usually was in the days 
of his union with Gertrude, appears in a garb which 
suggests that he is hovering around her in her 
chamber, though unseen. His attitude toward his 
son inspires fear, not awe. Hamlet's hair " starts up 
and stands on end " with fear, because his father's 
aspect now is terrible ; his anger at Hamlet's harsh 
strictures on his mother threatens him ; he glares 
on Hamlet, until the queen is roused from her an- 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 217 

guish and questions her son. The tenderness of 
the ghost should be expressed in his effort to make 
Hamlet comfort Gertrude : 

But, look, amazement on thy mother sits : 
O, step between her and her fighting soul : 
Conceit in weakest bodies strongest works : 
Speak to her, Hamlet. 

and Hamlet's question : 

How is it with you, lady? 

should seem an involuntary obedience to the strong 
impulsion of his father's command. The ghost 
should brood over Gertrude, as if it was impossible 
to part from her, and when, at last, it steals out at 
the portal, its gaze should be fixed on her in love, 
and not on Hamlet. This should be its piteous ac- 
tion that threatens to convert his stern effects. 
Hamlet says : 

His form and cause conjoin'd, preaching to stones, 

Would make them capable. Do not look upon me ; 

Lest with this piteous action you convert 

My stern effects : then what I have to do 

Will want true colour ; tears perchance for blood. 

What was the peculiar condition that was to make 
stones capable ? It was the expression of the 
ghost's undiminished love for a wife whose affection 
had been perverted by a villain. The ghost's form, 
which expressed this, joined with the cause which 
had made shipwreck of his life, would melt a stone. 
What was the piteous action that threatened to 
convert Hamlet's stern effects ? There is but one 
action that could convert them ; all others would 



2i8 THE TRUE STORY OF 

confirm and strengthen them. Every action except 
the one the ghost showed must have stimulated 
Hamlet to a quicker, sharper desire for revenge. 
The piteous actio7i was the manifestation in the 
elder Hamlet's form that his love for Gertrude was 
stronger than death and the grave, stronger even than 
dishonor: none of these could destroy it. Hamlet 
is so moved by the revelation of his father's all-for- 
giving love, that he can not look upon him, nor 
meet his loving, yearning, supplicating eyes; he 
knows that he will crucify Gertrude by his pur- 
posed acts, and, for the first time, he recognizes 
that he shall wound his father also ; he sees that 
all that Gertrude suffers the ghost too feels. 

The piteous action that expresses his father's 
adoration for the queen, and arrays him against 
his son, moves Hamlet to tears, and threatens for 
a moment to turn him aside from his stern deter- 
mination. But only for a moment: on the vanish- 
ing of the ghost Hamlet again turns to his task, 
but, in obedience to his father's wish, he pleads 
with his mother and does not again revile her. 

Consider the beauty this view of the ghost restores 
to the play. Think of the contrast between the 
elder and the younger Hamlet ; the one longing for 
the love of the woman he knows to be unworthy, the 
other tearing from his heart the image of the maid- 
en he only fears may become so. The pathos of 
the play is increased if we realize how much more 
Hamlet suffers in his efforts to avenge his father's 
wrongs, than does his father in enduring them. His 
father excuses Gertrude, asserting that she was sub- 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 219 

dued by the witchcraft of Claudius's wits and by 
his treacherous gifts, and he always loves her, and 
hopes to be re-united to her. In the elder Hamlet 
personal feeling is the cause for all his actions, 
while in our prince personal feeling is thrust aside, 
and absolute right and eternal justice are alone con- 
sidered. Hamlet's probity enriches his appreciation 
of his father, but there is compensation even in 
this. Hamlet were doubly orphaned should his 
unquestioning admiration for the dead king be de- 
stroyed. 

When the ghost steals away out at the portal, 
after beseeching his son to comfort Gertrude, Ham- 
let again addresses himself to the effort to move his 
mother to repentance and a consequent renuncia- 
tion of Claudius. He no longer uses violence of 
speech against either his mother or his uncle. He 
pleads with Gertrude begging her if she cannot sepa- 
rate herself at once from her paramour, to do so by 
degrees ; and as she listens to him without attempt- 
ing to defend herself or Claudius, Hamlet's old- 
time tenderness for his dear mother wakes in his 
heart, and, had he been less upright, would have 
moved him to expression of it. He convinces 
Gertrude that he is not mad, and induces her to 
promise not to let Claudius extort from her a revela- 
tion of her son's real state of mind. He shows her 
his feeling against the king, and even expresses his 
intention to countermine him, without eliciting a 
word of remonstrance from her. She makes no 
response when her son beseeches her : 

Repent what's past ; avoid what is to come. 



22o THE TRUE STORY OF 

It would not be fitting that she should do so ; but 
her promise — 

Be thou assured, if words be made of breath, 
And breath of life, I have no life to breathe 
What thou hast said to me — 

convinces us that the opening wedge, that will ulti- 
mately separate her from her guilty love, has been 
inserted. She consents to conceal Hamlet's secret 
from Claudius, and we know the rest will follow. 

Hamlet's seeming indifference to Polonius's 
death looks like insensibility, but is not, except in 
the sense that at this moment he is insensible to 
everything that will not help him to attain his end — 
his mother's repentance and his uncle's death. His 
immediate thought about it is that this murder 
will furnish to Claudius a legitimate excuse for 
sending him to England. When he has time to re- 
flect he deeply regrets the killing, and sympathizes 
with Laertes's anger and his grief, recognizing its 
resemblance to his own. When he parts from his 
mother he drags the dead councilor with him, and 
Gertrude leaves her closet and goes toward the 
king's apartments. 

One further word I wish to add before I leave the 
consideration of this scene. Except by the lines of 
the text, which indicate that Hamlet compels Ger- 
trude to look upon two pictures, one of which has 

A station like the herald Mercury 
New-lighted on a heaven-kissing hill — 

Shakespeare does not explain what these pictures 
are, nor how they should be exhibited; and the cus- 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 221 

torn of actors in the inspection of them differs. 
Some represent the pictures as hanging on the wall, 
— half-length portraits sometimes, and sometimes 
full-length; others produce two miniatures, one 
from the queen's neck, and one from Hamlet's ; and 
others see the portraits only with their mind's eye. 
Is it fair to consider the German Hamlet — Fratricide 
Punished — which Cohn says was " in the Dresden 
stage-library in 1626"? In it Hamlet says: 

But see, there in that gallery hangs the counterfeit [conter- 
fait] of your first husband, and there hangs the counterfeit of 
your present. What think you now ? Which of them is the 
comeliest ? Is not the first a majestic lord ? * 

Surely this shows us how the pictures were managed 
in Fratricide Punished, and thus brings us nearer 
to Shakespeare's time than any other authority. 
Would it not be most effective if both portraits — 
full-length — should hang within view of the audi- 
ence, the picture of king Hamlet just outside Ger- 
trude's closet, beyond the entrance through which 
the ghost appears ? Should not this portrait repre- 
sent the king in his ordinary costume, and not in 
the " armor he had on, when he the ambitious Nor- 
way combated?" And would it not be a justifiable 
stage effect to represent the ghost as the counter- 
part and exact imitation of this picture, suddenly 
becoming visible to Hamlet directly in front of 
his portrait ; so that Hamlet should doubt, until 
the ghost moved quickly forward toward Ger- 
trude, whether it was not merely a delusion of his 

* Quoted from Furness's Variorum Hamlet, vol. 2, p. 133. 



222 HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 

vision ? This it seems to me, would be very pow- 
erful; but always, where I speak of the way, the 
means, by which Shakespeare should be represented, 
it is with diffidence. I always desire to be under- 
stood as expressing an opinion only, not asserting 
anything absolutely, and in many places I hope the 
generosity of the reader of these pages will insert, 
/ tJiink, I believe, or It seems to me. 



XXII. 

The succeeding scene exhibits the king, Rosen- 
crantz and Guildenstern, and the queen, who has 
probably just come into their presence in a condi- 
tion of great agitation. The king perceives it, and 
addresses her sharply ; — who can tell what he then 
feared? He knew Polonius had not returned ! 

There's matter in these sighs, these profound heaves : 
You must translate : 'tis fit we understand them. 
Where is your son ? 

Gertrude dismisses the two courtiers, and then 
tells Claudius that Hamlet, in a sudden attack of 
frenzy, has killed Polonius ; she says he is " mad 
as the sea and wind, when both contend which is 
the mightier:" and thus we see how thoroughly she 
keeps her promise of concealment, made a minute 
earlier. She is better than her word — or worse — 
for she lies to screen Hamlet from the conse- 
quences of his rash action. But she need feel no 
alarm. Claudius dares not attempt to punish this 
crime. He fears that Hamlet, if he be arraigned, 
will turn on him and accuse him of his brother's 
murder; he knows nothing of the ghost, and he 
supposes Hamlet's knowledge of his guilt (knowl- 
edge manifested by the mock-play) was obtained 
from some witness whom he can produce. He 
dares not bring Hamlet to trial ; he must carry out 

223 



224 THE TRUE STORY OF 

his first design and send him instantly to England, 
and he uses the death of Polonius as an excuse to 
Gertrude for her son's sudden departure. He sends 
Guildenstern and Rosencrantz to find Hamlet, and 
bring Polonius's body to the chapel, and then, tell- 
ing the queen, — 

Come, Gertrude, we'll call up our wisest friends ; 
And let them know, both what we mean to do, 
And what's untimely done, — 

he goes to seek his counselors. 

Hamlet now comes in. That he is still in the same 
condition of mental excitement as when he left his 
mother's closet, appears from his momentary won- 
der at the voices of his two school-fellows, who call 
him. This wonder is caused by their familiarity; 
they call him " Hamlet ! Lord Hamlet ! " None but 
his father and his mother call him so — " Hamlet " — ! 
and for a moment he thinks he hears his father's 
voice, and looks about him again to discern his 
presence. 'Tis for a moment only, and when Rosen- 
crantz and Guildenstern enter, demanding where 
he has left the body of Polonius, he meets their 
questions with the same biting sarcasm that he had 
before employed toward them: he scarifies them 
with his caustic words, and then goes with them to 
the king. He has decided that the assumption of 
madness, which for thirty-six hours has been his 
amusement, must now be his protection. He words 
his answers to the king so that they tell the abso- 
lute truth, and yet deceive his hearers. The audi- 
ence understand them, and Hamlet's condition of 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 225 

excitement seems so to have infected them, that they 
almost join in the sneering laugh with which he di- 
rects the attendants to the body of Polonius with 
the seemingly heartless words: "He will stay till 
ye come," 

When Claudius tells the prince that he must at 
once, for his own safety, start for England, Hamlet 
seems to express surprise; but he already has ex- 
pected this, and reminded his mother of it a short 
time before, saying : 

There's letters seal'd : and my two school-fellows, 
Whom I will trust as I will adders fang'd, 
They bear the mandate. 

We should wonder how Hamlet knew this project 
was on foot, for Claudius had only conceived the 
plan of sending him in charge of the two spies that 
same night after the play, did we not find authority 
for his knowledge in the old Hystorie, p. 306, " Ham- 
blet understanding that he should be sent into Eng- 
land, presently doubted the occasion of his voyage, 
etc." Shakespeare found this statement and ac- 
cepted it : he wrote to make a play, and his genius 
did not stop to explain everything that we latter- 
day gossips might make clear. 

Hamlet's farewell to Claudius was intended for 
his mother : he knew Gertrude would question 
Claudius as to her son's parting words, and he pur- 
posely made them paradoxical that they might 
remain in Claudius's mind. He knew that the 
repetition of his words, " father and mother is man 
and wife ; man and wife is one flesh ;" would renew 



226 THE TRUE STORY OF 

in Gertrude's memory the recollection of the in- 
junctions he had addressed to her, to separate from 
Claudius and adhere again to her husband with 
whom she was " one flesh." This last obscured 
message was his final effort to obey the ghost's 
command, before, very early in the morning, he 
started for England with his two school-fellows. ■ 

As they go toward the ship they cross a plain, 
and there meet Fortinbras and his army, who is 
here introduced so that when the final catastrophe 
arrives, and the crown diverts to him, we can ac- 
count for his presence at the Danish court. Hamlet 
stops to speak with the captain of the forces, and, 
when he has parted from him, delays a little ere he 
again rejoins his companions, and expresses his 
intense disgust with his own apathy that still allows 
the king to live. He says : 

How all occasions do inform against me, 

And spur my dull revenge ! What is a man, 

If his chief good and market of his time 

Be but to sleep and feed ? a beast, no more. 

Sure, he that made us with such large discourse, 

Looking before and after, gave us not 

That capability and god-like reason 

To fust in us unused. Now, whether it be 

Bestial oblivion, or some craven scruple 

Of thinking too precisely on the event, 

A thought which quarter'd, hath but one part wisdom 

And ever three parts coward, I do not know 

Why yet I live to say ' This thing's to do;' 

Sith I have cause and will and strength and means 

To do't. Examples gross as earth exhort me : 

Witness this army of such mass and charge 

Led by a delicate and tender prince, 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 227 

Whose spirit with divine ambition puff' d 

Makes mouths at the invisible event, 

Exposing what is mortal and unsure 

To all that fortune, death and danger dare, 

Even for an egg-shell. Rightly to be great 

Is not to stir without great argument, 

But greatly to find quarrel in a straw 

When honour's at the stake. How stand I then, 

That have a father kill'd, a mother stain'd, 

Excitements of my reason and my blood, 

And let all sleep? while, to my shame, I see 

The imminent death of twenty thousand men, 

That, for a fantasy and trick of fame, 

Go to their graves like beds, fight for a plot 

Whereon the numbers cannot try the cause, 

Which is not tomb enough and continent 

To hide the slain ? Oh, from this time forth, 

My thoughts be bloody, or be nothing worth! 

Hamlet's severe strictures on his own conduct are 
what we should expect from his super-sensitiveness. 
He is not really to blame for any delay ; the 
moment he was convinced the ghost should be be- 
lieved he began to act — really he began before this, 
when he went to Ophelia's chamber ; and it is his 
own mis-directed action — the killing of Polonius — 
that is sending him now from Denmark. Hamlet 
has become a man of action ; his days of thoughtful 
contemplation are past. From the moment the 
mock play convinces him that his father, and not 
the devil, had appeared to him, he is all action, and 
all his action is devoted to one end — the killing of 
the king. 

Immediately after the play Hamlet turned on his 
school-fellows, and openly manifested his contempt 



228 THE TRUE STORY OF 

for Claudius : this was action. He was about to 
stab the king and restrained himself till he could kill 
both soul and body : paradox though it seem, this 
was action. He awakened his mother's conscience, 
and killed Polonius : this too was action, and action 
calculated to fulfill the ghost's command. When he 
is sent from Denmark, the very first night out he 
stealthily removes the papers Rosencrantz and Guil- 
denstern are bearing to England, examines them, 
and at once prepares others to replace them : this 
certainly is action. The next day in the sea-fight 
he is the first and only man who, in the grapple, 
boards the pirate ship : action again. He persuades 
the pirates to spare his life and to carry him back 
to Denmark : action. He at once writes to the 
king saying that next day he should desire to see 
him, and to Horatio desiring him to come to him 
"with as much speed as thou would'st fly death." 
At Ophelia's grave he proclaims his title to the 
crown he expects so soon to wear : This is I, 
Hamlet the Dane. He goes straightway to the 
castle to kill the king : he fences with Laertes at 
once — no postponement : and, before he succumbs 
to death, he kills Claudius, and prevents Hora- 
tio from draining the poisoned cup. Him he 
compels to live to tell the world of Hamlet's 
actions. 

Hamlet's self-reproaches are like those with which 
we afflict ourselves when we stand beside the grave 
of one we love. Now matter how great our tender 
regard has been, at that hour we always accuse our- 
selves of much that we have done and left undone. 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 229 

Hamlet knows his duty has not been accomplished, 
and the fear that he has neglected opportunities to 
obey his father's command outweighs the fact that 
he has acted, and is acting, with reasonable quick- 
ness. He sees Fortinbras ready to dispute the 
title to a tiny plot of ground, while he has hesitated 
to press his just claim to the whole realm of Den- 
mark, and has besides as " excitements to his reason 
and his blood," a father slain, and a mother dis- 
honored. He sees himself sent away from his 
native land, and the knowledge that this absence 
will paralyze his arm, at least for a time, spurs him 
to self-abuse because he had not better employed 
his time, when it was his. We ought to see the in- 
centives to Hamlet's Seventh Soliloquy, and not ac- 
cept his self-condemnation as a just judgment. He 
can not decide " whether it be bestial oblivion, or 
some craven scruple of thinking too precisely on the 
event," that has so long withheld him. He does not 
remember how founded in reason his doubts have 
been. Now that he is at last convinced that the 
ghost spoke truth, he thinks that he has always be- 
lieved him, and forgets that knowledge secure 
enough to justify action has been obtained only with- 
in the last twelve hours. A less rational and investi- 
gating mind than Hamlet's would instantly have 
been imposed on by the apparition, and would have 
acted first and investigated afterward. Hamlet was 
never afraid to kill the king, but he did fear 
to commit injustice: he thinks now that only 
insensibility to his father's wrongs could have 
made him suspect that vengeance could be in- 



230 HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 

justice, and his last words before he embarks for 
England are : 

O, from this time forth, 
My thoughts be bloody, or be little worth ! 

Hamlet's departure from Denmark closes the 
second day of the Second Period. In it a great 
variety of changes has occurred. Claudius has 
been convinced that Hamlet is not mad, by the 
same testimony which convinces Ophelia that his 
mind is quite overthrown ; the mock-play has 
proved the truthfulness of the ghost ; Hamlet has 
turned upon his school-fellows and defied them ; 
the king has confessed his guilt to the audience ; 
Hamlet has killed Polonius; Gertrude's conscience 
has been awakened, and she has sided with Hamlet 
against her husband ; and Hamlet has been sent out 
of the kingdom in charge of his two school-fellows. 



XXIII. 

The next scenes require the lapse of many weeks 
— of full two months — to accomplish what they 
represent. It requires that time for the ship in 
which Hamlet sailed to reach England and return 
to Denmark. Remember how long a time was 
required for the ambassadors to go to Norway and 
return. It requires that time for a messenger to 
reach Laertes in France and come back again with 
him to Elsinore. 

The first scene (which is now numbered Scene V. 
Act III.) shows us Ophelia, after she became de- 
ranged, forcing her way into Gertrude's presence. 
Her derangement was no gradual alienation, as Ham- 
let's was supposed to be, but a sudden loosening 
of the bonds of reason. While her condition was 
the consequence of her father's death, his death 
alone was not the cause of it. The death of a 
father, as Claudius reminds us early in the play, 
is " as common as any the most vulgar thing to 
sense ; " and, happy circumstance, filial affection 
accepts it as a necessary blow. But Ophelia's 
father had been killed by Hamlet ; this much she 
knew, though she was not informed of it at first, and 
was ignorant of it when she sent to France for 
Laertes. She then suspected Claudius. She knew 
only that her father was dead, and had been taken, 

231 



232 THE TRUE STORY OF 

by the king's command, to the royal chapel, instead 
of to his own house, and thus she was shut away 
from the tender communings with her dead that 
affection covets. She saw in this a proof of an un- 
natural death, but no immediate explanation was 
given to her, or to the messenger whom she dis- 
patched to fetch Laertes. After his departure she 
was told, but not by Gertrude, that Hamlet had 
killed her father. The story was a muddled one: 
she could not find out why Polonius was in the 
queen's closet behind the arras, nor what had in- 
duced Hamlet to draw his sword upon him. She 
was not consulted as to her father's obsequies, and 
he was hastily and shabbily interred. The poor 
child revolved the catastrophe of his death again 
and again, returning always to the one thought that 
Hamlet was her father's murderer. She knew this 
act of Hamlet's had made it forever impossible that 
she should become his wife. It was not her own 
feeling that decided thus. She loved him so blindly 
that if she could have believed Hamlet would wel- 
come her, she would have fled to his side, and would 
have found some excuse, in his madness, again to 
justify her forgiveness of him. But this murder 
had accented, in the most positive manner, his pre- 
vious repudiation of her. She could not but accuse 
herself as being, in a remote way, the cause of her 
father's death, and of Hamlet's loss of reason : her 
too quick obedience to her father's injunctions had, 
she thought, first alienated her lover's affection, 
and then directed his sword against her father. 
These are the thoughts that precede and accomplish 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 233 

Ophelia's loss of reason : her mind was dethroned, 
she was deranged, insane. 

It has been said that Ophelia was Gertrude's 
favorite maid of honor, and that it was during her 
attendance on his mother that Hamlet had won her 
heart. This is gratuitous; there is absolutely noth- 
ing to indicate it ; although the old Hystorie, p. 294, 
represents that the " beawtifull woman " who 
desired Hamblet, was " one that from her infancy 
loved and favored him." It has also been said that 
Gertrude's Avords at Ophelia's grave present a 
redeeming feature in her character. These words 
are hypocritical ; they do not express true affection ; 
they are uttered in the hearing of Laertes and the 
priests, for the purpose of disarming criticism. 
Gertrude shows no affection for Ophelia while 
living, no sympathy with her when insane, and no 
agitation when she brings to her brother the word 
that she is drowned. The only redeeming feature 
that the queen possessed was one she shared with 
roaring lions and with ravening wolves, with the 
most abject and worthless of her sex — affection for 
her offspring. The elder Hamlet's love for her is 
only another of the many examples of a worthy 
man loving a perverted nature, and excusing all its 
evil deeds. If Shakespeare had intended to endow 
Gertrude with any womanly virtue, he would surely 
have represented her as interested in, and caring for, 
the daughter of the man her son had killed. She 
should have brought her to the castle, and should 
have assuaged her own sorrow at Hamlet's exile, 
and Ophelia's grief at her double loss, by sweet 



234 THE TRUE STORY OF 

communings, in which the name they both so dearly 
loved would have been mentioned only to excuse 
his hasty and ill-resulting deed. But Shakespeare 
represents Gertrude and Claudius, after the lapse of 
two months, as so careless of Ophelia's well-being 
that her appearance at the palace gives them the 
first information of her loss of reason. 

Horatio, Hamlet's dear and true friend, goes 
with her to the castle, when he sees she will not 
be restrained. By this circumstance Shakespeare 
shows us the depth and faithfulness of Horatio's 
love for Hamlet. He is a comparative stranger in 
Elsinore, but he seems to be the only friend who 
watches over Hamlet's " Rose of May." The prince 
had not told Horatio of his mother's adultery : (he 
was unwilling to speak of that while he hoped the 
ghost might be a liar) and he therefore had said 
nothing of his determination to renounce Ophelia. 
Horatio watches over her for his dear friend's sake, 
because he knows he loves her, but her unprotected 
condition would have interested his sympathy, did 
this claim upon it not exist. 

The queen, and Horatio and an attendant gentle- 
men appear, when the curtain rises, and the queen, 
as she enters, says : 

I will not speak with her. 

These words show us how little Gertrude cares for 
the sweet demented maiden ; she is not willing even 
to see her, and try if affection and tenderness can 
dissipate the cloud that enfolds her. " I will ?iot 
speak to her!" These words express the extreme 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 235 

of selfishness, and it is an appeal to Gertrude's sel- 
fishness that at last procures admission for Ophelia. 
The gentleman who has come in with Horatio, prob- 
ably the gentleman in waiting, more tender-hearted 
than the queen, says : 

She is importunate, indeed distract : 

Her mood will needs be pitied. 
Queen. What would she have ? 
Gent. She speaks much of her father ; says she hears 

There's tricks i' the world ; and hems, and beats her heart ; 

Spurns enviously at straws; speaks things in doubt, 

That carry but half sense : her speech is nothing, 

Yet the unshaped use of it doth move 

The hearers to collection ; they aim at it, 

And botch the words up fit to their own thoughts ; 

Which, as her winks, and nods, and gestures yield them, 

Indeed would make one think there might be thought, 

Though nothing sure, yet much unhappily. 
Hor. 'Twere good she were spoken with ; for she may strew 

Dangerous conjectures in ill-breeding minds. 

The speech of the gentleman does not express his 
meaning very clearly : he dares not say exactly what 
he thinks, and he wraps his thoughts in suggestive 
words. He has heard Ophelia's speech and songs, 
and has seen her winks, and nods, and gestures, and 
he concludes from them what other minds, notably 
Tieck's, have done, and suspects that Hamlet had 
been guilty of a greater wrong than the murder of 
Polonius. Horatio sees this, and covertly rebukes 
him for his evil thoughts in the words " ill-breeding 
minds." The gentleman, with all his tenderness, 
had an ill-breeding mind. 

We need not dwell upon Ophelia's words when 



236 THE TRUE STORY OF 

she is at last admitted to the queen. We perceive 
that Gertrude and Claudius have not known of her 
disorder, and from her speech at parting we get an 
idea why she has come to the castle — she wanted 
counsel, and she departs satisfied, thinking she has 
received it. Her memory has returned to the cir- 
cumstances that unseated it, and she says, as though 
in reply to some remembered effort to console her 
when she first heard of her father's death : 

I hope all will be well. We must be patient : but I cannot 
choose but weep, to think they should lay him i' the cold 
ground. My brother shall know of it : and so I thank you for 
your good counsel. 

And so she departs, and Horatio with her. 

We feel that it is desecration to criticise Ophelia. 
She is so real a creation and her griefs are so heart- 
rending that we treat her as we would a loved and 
living friend, and turn away, burying all her self- 
revelations in our hearts, not commenting on them, 
or revealing them. We can feel about the poor 
maid much more than we can say. 

As Ophelia came into Gertrude's presence, the 

queen's words — 

To my sick soul, as sin's true nature is, 
Each toy seems prologue to some great amiss : 
So full of artless jealousy is guilt, 
It spills itself in fearing to be spilt — 

indicated that the remonstrances of Hamlet have 
been fruitful in arousing her guilty conscience. We 
do not see that she is repentant, but we know that 
she is disturbed, and that is the first step to repent- 
ance and renunciation. 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 237 

When Gertrude and Claudius are left alone, the 
king makes a show of hypocritical regret over 
Ophelia's misfortune. I believe he was rejoiced at 
Polonius's death,- not only because it gave him an 
excuse for Hamlet's removal, but because it silenced 
one who could have testified to the equivocal man- 
ner in which he had secured the throne. He is 
very anxious, however, to impress on Gertrude that 
all Ophelia's disorder sprung from her father's death 
— this throws the responsibility for it on her son — 
and he explicitly reminds the queen that Hamlet is 
the "most violent author of his own just remove." 
Claudius is afraid that when he shall in a few days 
receive the news of Hamlet's assassination, Gertrude 
may remember that he proposed sending her son 
away, before the murder had made it seem so neces- 
sary. 



XXIV. 

As the king is telling Gertrude that Laertes has in 
secret returned from France, and that, surprised at 
his father's obscure funeral, he is trying to find out, 
before his return becomes known, what was the 
cause of Polonius's death, a great noise is heard — the 
noise of a rabble. Claudius calls on his switzers to 
guard the door, but a gentleman rushes in crying 
upon the king to save himself, and hastily explain- 
ing that Laertes has overborne the officers who 
guard the palace, and is now, at the head of the 
mob, seeking for the king. Laertes has so inflamed 
the rabble, he says, that they cry out, " Laertes shall 
be king." The mob was not ungrateful. It re- 
membered that Polonius's efforts had placed Claudius 
on the throne of Denmark ; a violent death had been 
his reward ; and their unreasoning justice would have 
snatched the crown away from Claudius, and given 
it to Polonius's son. 

While the gentleman is speaking, Laertes enters, 
the Danes following. Laertes begs them to remain 
without, and, at his request, they withdraw, leaving 
their leader alone with Gertrude and the king. 
These two have seen that Laertes can control the 
mob ; they know that at a word from him the in- 
flamed populace will be upon them, and now, first, 
do we behold in the usurper the display of kingly 

238 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 239 

qualities. As Laertes turns from the Danes and 
flies at Claudius, crying: 

O thou vile king, 
Give me my father ! 

Gertrude throws herself between them, trying to 
calm him, but Claudius does not blench or move ; 
he stands and fronts the danger, and his first words 
show absolute control of his nerves and of his 
senses : 

What is the cause, Laertes, 

he says, 

That thy rebellion looks so giant-like ? 

This he speaks calmly, and in such a measured tone, 
showing no fear, that Laertes for a moment recoils, 
and Claudius then addresses Gertrude, who had tried 
to hold Laertes back, saying : 

Let him go, Gertrude ; do not fear our person : 

There's such divinity doth hedge a king, 

That treason can but peep to what it would, 

Acts little of his will. Tell me, Laertes, 

Why thou art thus incensed. Let him go, Gertrude. 

Speak, man. 

This is magnificent. At this moment Claudius is 
" every inch a king." The kingly plural never 
more fitly represented the multiplied importance of 
its royal user. Claudius when he spoke thus was 
the worthy representative of every king that ever 
was. He did not quail or palliate Laertes's crime — 
rebellion he plainly called it, and treason — and in- 
stead of submitting to be questioned he demands a 
reply of Laertes, and reiterates it in the words : 



2 4 o THE TRUE STORY OF 

"Speak, man." Laertes is amazed, his violent 

anger seems unnecessary, and he more calmly 

asks : 

Where is my father ? 

Dead. 

responds the king, vouchsafing no explanation or 
appeasing word, but Gertrude, fearing this reply 
will make Laertes rage again, explains : 

But not by him. 

and the king rebukes her agitation and indicates his 
own fearlessness by saying: 

Let him demand his fill. 

This is an imposing picture of dignity and regal 
self-command. Laertes is impressed by it, his 
wonted reverence for his anointed king controls 
him, and he feels his anger slip away from him. 
He, for an instant, thinks of this as witchcraft ; 
then, returning to his just cause for indignation, 
he cries : 

How came he dead ? I'll not be juggled with : 
To hell allegiance ! vows, to the blackest devil ! 
Conscience and grace, to the profoundest pit ! 
I dare damnation. To this point I stand, 
That both the worlds I give to negligence, 
Let come what comes; only I'll be revenged 
Most throughly for my father. 

By a few measured words Claudius controls Laer- 
tes's agitation until he speaks, as Claudius says, 
"like a good child and a true gentleman;" but be- 
fore any explanations have been given him a 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 241 

noise is again heard without. It is the Danes 
crying: 

Let her come in, — 

meaning Ophelia, who re-enters as Laertes asks: 
How now ! what noise is that ? 

I think Ophelia's loss of reason should be more 
plainly indicated by her representatives, than I have 
ever seen it. Down-hanging hair and an apron full 
of flowers are not enough to manifest to a brother 
that his sister is deranged, and yet Laertes per- 
ceives it the moment his eyes rest upon Ophelia. 
In this scene, and the preceding one, Ophelia should 
wear a black dress. Two months have passed since 
her father's death. Hamlet was clad in deepest 
black although his father had not been dead so 
long, and Laertes is often represented as coming 
back from France in sable robes. If Ophelia were 
robed in black, the incongruity between her mourn- 
ing dress and her festival flowers and bearing would 
at once suggest a loss of reason, and in the " busi- 
ness " of her part in this scene and the former one, 
her recurring references to her father should seem 
to be suggested to her shattered mind, when her eye 
is arrested by her unaccustomed black gown. 

Laertes truly loved his sister, and he does not 
express more than he feels when he sees her 
" blasted with ecstacy." He approaches to embrace 
her, and she continuously evades him, as though he 
were a stranger, but the tenor of her songs reveals 
that Laertes's presence has struck some chord of re- 
membrance. The first one strives to tell him of 



242 HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 

their father's death, and then a spark of recollec- 
tion kindles the thought, " Bonny sweet Robin is all 
my joy." Bonny sweet Robin, whom Laertes with 
his parting words had cautioned her against. 

I do not see why so much attention is devoted to 
the deciphering of Ophelia's "document in mad- 
ness." Thoughts and remembrance are fitted with 
their appropriate flowers— pansies and rosemary : 
these she gives to Laertes because he is young, and 
she confounds him with her lover, but it is idle to 
expect a fitness through all the distribution. She 
had not gathered the flowers with any idea of point- 
ing a moral, and only as she gave them did any 
thought of their name and meaning occur to her. 
We love Ophelia in her derangement even more 
than before : she is so patient and submissive, so 
pathetic in the expression of her sorrow ; she so 
plainly shows her love and her innocence, that we 
are thankful insanity has made her in some degree 
insensible to her cause for woe ; that memory has 
ceased to paint her griefs in all their first distinct- 
ness. 

She sings her little songs, and gives her flowers, 
and passes from our sight forever with the gentle 
benediction : 

God ha' mercy on his soul ! 
And of all christian souls, I pray God, God be wi' ye. 

And, when her watery death has washed from her 
recollection every stain of sorrow, we heartily rejoice 
because Death the Deliverer has carried her away 
from her earthly captivity. 



XXV. 

But we must inquire why Shakespeare, when he 
shows us Ophelia in her madness, presents her 
exactly as he does. We should be glad if the re- 
collection of her incoherent words might be a little 
different. 

This representation of Ophelia is a justification 
of Hamlet. Without it, lookers-on at the theater 
might not agree with him, and might feel that his 
decision to renounce a loving, meek, obedient maid 
had proved, as no other of his actions could, the 
possession of a mind diseased. But Hamlet, early 
in the play, has had many interviews with Ophelia 
at which we were not present ; he has given many 
private hours to her; he has recollections that we 
know not of, which have helped him in his judgment. 
Shakespeare wishes to bring his auditors with full 
consent of their reason to agree with Hamlet, there- 
fore he shows them Ophelia, when, the sweet re- 
straints of reason being removed, her songs disclose 
the burden of her thoughts. Like the 

maid called Barbara 
She was in love, and he she loved proved mad 
And did forsake her : she had a song of "willow "; 
An old thing 'twas but it express'd her fortune, 
And she died singing it. 

In the scene with Laertes his presence controls 
Ophelia's recollections, and confines them almost 

243 



244 THE TRUE STORY OF 

absolutely to their father, but in the preceding 
scene the presence of Claudius and Gertrude, who 
were so closely connected with Hamlet, awakens 
in her unsettled brain a longing for his love and his 
caresses, and this she expresses in her songs. 

Critics who have not seen the need for Ophelia's 
self-disclosure have wondered why Shakespeare 
should put such loose songs upon her lips. They 
have justified them by saying that she had heard 
them in her childhood from her nurse, and that, 
when reason and recollection were destroyed, her 
earliest impressions ruled her mind, and she now, 
with no recognition of their impropriety, sang the 
songs that had lain voiceless in her memory so 
many years. This is probably true, but Shakes- 
peare undoubtedly meant, when he showed us 
Ophelia " divided from herself and her fair judg- 
ment," and allowed her to sing such songs, that we 
should see the natural bent and disposition of her 
senses, in order that we might justify Hamlet in his 
decision. He introduced Ophelia's madness, as he 
did Lady Macbeth's somnambulism, whose will in 
sleep could not control her thoughts, or the ex- 
pression of them. Ophelia had heard other songs 
in her youth, songs from the Pious Chanson maybe, 
but she did not give them entertainment in her 
mind. 

If we be shown two maids, both crazed by the 
same combination of circumstances, one of whom 
sings spiritual songs and turns her thoughts toward 
Heaven, and the other of whom expresses her 
grief as Ophelia did, shall we not inevitably decide 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 245 

that they differ in disposition, and that the latter 
is subject to some insubordination of her senses 
which may in time lead them to mutiny against her 
virtue ? Shakespeare thought so, and he had faith 
to believe that with this revelation our judgment 
would confirm Hamlet's, and free him from too 
much censure for his rejection of the maiden. We 
must not forget that Shakespeare chose these songs, 
as calculated to reveal Ophelia's disposition. He 
could have selected others, had he wished to do so. 
It is so ungracious a task to speak of Ophelia in 
any but words of unqualified admiration, that I feel 
forced to defend myself for setting down about her 
what I believe Shakespeare meant to convey ; and 
the prejudices of Ophelia-lovers are so strong, that 
unless I explain exactly how much I mean to say, 
they will conceive that more is meant than I ex- 
press. I believe that Shakespeare meant to portray, 
in Ophelia, a maiden who was pure in thought and 
act, but whose disposition, inclination, natural ten- 
dency was sensuous. She was the sensuous North- 
ern maiden, as Juliet was the sensuous Southern 
type, and she was absolutely as continent and chaste 
as Juliet — but not more so; and I have no doubt 
that she was also as free and unrestrained in the 
expression of her love to Hamlet as Juliet was to 
Romeo. Juliet and Ophelia were alike in natural 
disposition, but Romeo and Hamlet were unlike. 
While Romeo was moved to instant action the 
moment an impulse stirred him, Hamlet was self- 
controlled, and considered their results before he 
indulged, or even expressed, his desires. Therefore 



246 THE TRUE STORY OF 

he stifled his love for Ophelia, and it was he, not 
she, who prescribed the lines within which their in- 
tercourse was carried on. 

Every word which Shakespeare employs for the 
portrayal of Ophelia's character strengthens this 
view of it. The subject is so delicate that only light 
touches can be used in her delineation, but these 
strokes all lead to the completion of a picture of a 
maiden who was innocent because she had not been 
tempted, but who had no backbone of principle or 
precept to keep her so ; — a maiden whose own sen- 
suous nature was the traitor that might deliver the 
treasures in its charge to an invading libertine, had 
such an one desired to make conquest of them. It 
is clear to me that Hamlet believed this, and that 
Shakespeare meant that we too should recognize it. 
Every introduction of Ophelia deepens the lines of 
this picture, though almost as imperceptibly as the 
sun brings out a photograph. 

The first time we see her we are shown that father 
and brother know her disposition, and strongly fear, 
that, if tempted, she will indulge it. On her next 
appearance she tells her father of Hamlet's visit to 
her chamber early in the morning. This visit was 
an unpardonable liberty. His recklessness did not 
arise from madness, but from the freedom of his 
association with Ophelia along "the primrose path 
of dalliance." His doubts were torturing him, and 
he desired to resolve them, and knew that she would 
excuse a visit that a sane man would not have 
dared to pay to a lady-love whose maidenly reserve 
had commanded his respect. Ophelia excused it 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 247 

instantly, but Polonius could not conceive that any- 
thing but madness could justify the prince in such 
an act of presumption. 

The inscription in Hamlet's letter to Ophelia is 
another effort to delineate the maiden. Are not the 

words : 

In her excellent white bosom, these, &c, 

meant to suggest that Hamlet allowed himself at 
least a freedom of speech with Ophelia ? To a sen- 
sitive mind the words do not express exactly the 
same sentiment as we find in " pure bosom," 
" gentle bosom," which Shakespeare elsewhere em- 
ploys ; and to no maiden but Ophelia does Shakes- 
peare allow a lover to speak or write in such atone; 
— of her person rather than her qualities. The 
phrase is allied to Richard's free expression of his 
desire for Lady Anne : 

So I might live an hour in your sweet bosom. 

As soon as Polonius read the lines, — " In her excel- 
lent white bosom, these, &c." Gertrude interrupted 

him, asking : 

Came this from Hamlet to her ? 

She can hardly believe that her son would write in 
this way to any maiden, and Polonius, seeing that 
she doubts whether the prince had written thus, 
but does not doubt that he has written, replies: 

Stay awhile, I will be faithful. 

That is, ' Do not judge so fast ; I will read nothing 
that he did not write.' 

The fact that Ophelia had this missive is another 
of Shakespeare's touches. Her father had forbid- 



248 THE TRUE STORY OF 

den her to receive Hamlet's tokens, and she had 
told him that she "did repel his letters and denied 
his access," and then, rather than go in person to 
the king, she had produced this letter, although it 
was a proof of her disobedience. Understand, I 
am not blaming her for this, any more than I should 
•blame a red rose for not being white. I only insist 
that red is red, and that Shakespeare meant us to 
see it red. 

Hamlet's conversations with Polonius about his 
daughter are strong helps to our understanding of 
Ophelia's character, and so is his conversation with 
her, in the lobby, and at the mock-play. They 
show that Hamlet, who knew her better than we, 
believed that her sensuousness might become sen- 
suality. 

Ophelia's consenting to encounter Hamlet, by 
seeming accident, the very day after he had treated 
her with such great rudeness, and her planning to 
offer to return his gifts to him, are touches by which 
she is self-revealed ; and her songs, when insanity has 
still further loosened the bonds of self-restraint, 
expose her natural disposition to us. Even the 
words used by Horatio and the gentleman in wait- 
ing on Gertrude add to our conception of Ophelia's 
character. We understand what the gentleman 
means though he does not express it plainly, and 
Horatio, who, while he knows her innocence, yet 
knows to what " thoughts " her hearers may 
" botch her words up," advises: 

'Twere good she were spoken with, for she may strew 
Dangerous conjecture in ill-breeding minds. 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 249 

The words with which Gertrude leaves the scene, 
when Ophelia is going to the lobby to meet Ham- 
let, are open to the construction that she too en- 
tertained a doubt as to the purity of their relations. 
It was natural that her depraved mind should attri- 
bute evil to others, and she did not believe that 
disappointed love had any share in producing Ham- 
let's transformation ; but her words are these : 

And for your part, Ophelia, I do wish 

That your good beauties be the happy cause 

Of Hamlet's wildness : so shall I hope your virtues 

Will bring him to his wonted way again, 

To both your honours. 

After all this, which looks like censure, shall I be 
excused if I say I think Hamlet was wrong in re- 
jecting the maiden? if I say that, had he married 
her, he would have bounded her horizon, and she 
would have been as absolutely faithful to him as 
were Imogen or Desdemona to their husbands ? I 
believe that Hamlet's fidelity to his ideal, which 
separated him from Ophelia, entailed an unnecessary 
sacrifice, — a sacrifice to which both were innocent 
victims. Ophelia's love had root, not in her fancy 
alone but in the very fibre of her heart ; her reason 
was destroyed by her efforts to conceive of and 
support life without Hamlet. Such a love could 
blossom only once, and would have bloomed for 
Hamlet only. 

This conception of Ophelia does not, in my 
opinion, dethrone or degrade her: it defines her 
character with strong lines and enhances the beauty 
aud pathos of the play. 



XXVI. 

LAERTES did not follow his sister when she left the 
royal presence, but he withdrew with Claudius, who, 
in some other apartment, gave him his version of 
Polonius's murder, telling him that Hamlet, seized 
with sudden madness, had killed the chamberlain 
supposing him to be the king. While Claudius is 
making this explanation we see Horatio in another 
room of the castle. Sailors bring him a letter from 
Hamlet, saying that " it comes from the ambassa- 
dor that was bound for England." This letter tells 
Horatio that Hamlet is returned to Elsinore, and is 
now waiting, in some secluded spot, desirous that 
his friend shall come to him ; the sailors are to 
guide him. But they have other letters, one for 
the king and one for Gertrude ; both are sent to 
Claudius. We do not know that Gertrude's letter 
ever reaches her, but we see, in Hamlet's sending it, 
a proof that he has lost no time in again reminding 
his mother of his parting admonitions. 

In the next scene we see Claudius when these 
letters are delivered to him. He has had time to 
tell Laertes how and when Hamlet had killed Polo- 
nius, and we now hear him excuse himself for not 
bringing the prince to punishment. He says he 
loves Gertrude so dearly that he could not bear to 

250 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 251 

wound her by proceeding against her son. This, 
his first reason, we know to be untrue, for he is in 
daily expectation of the news of Hamlet's death, for 
which he only is responsible. The other reason 
as he explains it, is that the young prince is so be- 
loved by his late father's subjects that- they would 
excuse any fault in him, and consider it a virtue; 
this, though true in fact, is untrue in its application. 
But Claudius, finding that Laertes is clamorous for 
revenge, is just about to confide to him that he has 
ordered Hamlet's death, when he is interrupted by 
the messenger who brings the letters which have 
been sent in by the sailors. Taking them both, his 
own and the queen's, he tells Laertes : 

You shall hear them. 

His own letter, which he first opens and reads, 
seems so to have surprised him that he does not read 
the other. This letter to Claudius differs widely 
from the grave and thoughtful epistle Hamlet sent 
to his friend ; it is not the respectful salutation 
of a son to a father, or a subject to a king. The 
matter and the manner of it could both be attri- 
buted to madness, and we see that Hamlet means 
still to continue, in the presence of his enemies, a 
behavior which was forced upon him by them. 
The letter says that "to-morrow" Hamlet will seek 
to see the king, and Claudius instantly conceives a 
plan by which Laertes, while he pursues his own 
revenge, shall free him forever from the dread which 
Hamlet must inspire so long as he remains upon 
the earth. This he thinks he can accomplish with- 



*• 



252 THE TRUE STORY OF 

out exposing himself to suspicion, which must have 
touched him had the prince been killed by England : 
he says : 

I will work him 
To an exploit, now ripe in my device, 
Under the which he shall not choose but fall ; 
And for his death no wind of blame shall breathe, 
But even his mother shall uncharge the practice 
And call it accident. 

Claudius has measured Laertes, and he knows his 
honor is an empty bubble, and that, like his father, 
he can be employed for a cowardly and knavish 
undertaking. He explains the exploit which he has 
devised, and Laertes, to prove that he is ripe for the 
villainy he is embracing, and fully understands its 
aim, suggests that the unbated foil, with which he 
is to stab his former friend, shall be anointed with a 
deadly poison, which he has by him. The mere 
ownership of this ointment should convince us that 
Laertes was not an honorable man. Claudius 
assents to the double treachery proposed, and then, 
revolving in his own mind the possibility that 
Laertes, with all his skill, may not be the better 
fencer, he sees that a failure on his confederate's 
part may subject them both to suspicion, and allow 
time for Hamlet to make his charge against him. 
In order to make all sure, he suggests that a poi- 
soned cup shall be prepared, of which the prince 
shall be induced to drink, and he charges his ally to 
be violent in his attacks on Hamlet, so that thirst 
shall surely be induced in him. Just as this com- 
pact is concluded Gertrude hastily enters, and is 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 253 

greeted by the man who is prepared to lacerate her 
heart by murdering her only child, with the hypo- 
critical endearment: 

How now, sweet queen ? 

Gertrude has come to tell them that the fair 
demented maid, who parted from them so short a 
time before, is drowned. She tells the story, but 
she does not manifest emotion, and probably does 
not feel it. Her perverted mind inserts in the 
melancholy tale an allusion to the gross name given 
to Ophelia's flowers by " liberal shepherds," and her 
whole narration is more florid than sorrow would 
have made it. 

Her words do not suggest that Ophelia intended 
to end her own life, and there is nothing in the 
story to make us believe it. The priests inclined to 
think so, and, in consequence, refused to bury her 
except with " maimed rites," but her only fault was 
that she made no effort to save herself when the 
" envious sliver broke ": her clouded mind did not 
perceive that death was imminent. In her last 
moments, as through all the play, Shakespeare 
paints Ophelia as the very opposite, in mental 
quality, to Hamlet. Her life is cut short, as her 
love and her hope of happiness had been, by her 
own act, but by an act of whose probable result she 
was absolutely unconscious. Indeed the whole play 
is a drama of cross-purposes ; no one act results as 
its originator intended. 

When Laertes hastens to the spot where his 
dead sister lies, Claudius, instead of expressing any 



254 HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 

sympathy with this new cause for grief or any 
sorrow for the maiden, says only : 

Let's follow, Gertrude : 
How much I had to do to calm his rage ! 
Now fear I this will give it start again ; 
Therefore let's follow. 

Ophelia's death is the last of the occurrences of 
this day with which we are made acquainted : it 
is the first day of the Third Period. In it we are 
shown first Ophelia's madness ; then Laertes's re- 
turn to Denmark ; the receipt by Horatio of his 
letter from Hamlet ; the delivery of Hamlet's letter 
to the king ; the perfecting of the plot by which 
Laertes is to kill the prince ; and last, Ophelia's 
death. 



XXVII. 

On the following day — the last day of the play — 
we are shown, in Act V. Scene I., the church- 
yard where the grave-digger is preparing Ophelia's 
grave. He sings as he digs, and moralizes with his 
companion. Hamlet and Horatio enter at a dis- 
tance, and slowly approaching the open grave they 
watch the delver as he throws out the bones of the 
forgotten dead. 

Horatio has been with his friend for many hours, 
probably all the time since the sailors conducted 
him to him. Communion with his loving friendship 
has been protection to Hamlet from his own heavy 
thoughts. Horatio has not plied him with ques- 
tions, and Hamlet has been glad to rest some hours, 
forgetting the past and oblivious of the future. His 
friend's silence was a balm to his wounded sensibili- 
ties. He has told Horatio only how his return had 
been accomplished through the sea-fight, and has 
waited until the morrow to tell him of the fate that 
had overtaken Rosencrantz and Guildenstern : this 
he has not yet done, although the morrow has 
come, the morrow of which Hamlet said in his 
letter to Claudius, " To-morrow I shall beg leave to 
see your kingly eyes." This is the day in which he 
means to end his uncle's life, and at last fulfill his 

255 



256 THE TRUE STORY OF 

obligation to his father's spirit. He has in his pos- 
session the commission that Claudius gave the two 
spies, with which to satisfy the populace that their 
ruler's death was merited, and he knows that the 
exhibition to his mother of his uncle's treachery 
toward him, and the repetition of the ghost's story 
of his previous villainy, will forever separate her 
heart from her seducer. He did not, instantly on 
his arrival, hasten to kill the king : he needed time 
to rest his body and compose his thoughts, and to 
tell Horatio what his plan was, so that he could 
count upon his intelligent support when the moment 
for action had arrived. 

It is not unnatural that the two friends should 
walk in the churchyard. It is quite possible that 
Hamlet's first act in the morning was to come to 
church, to give thanks for his safe return, and to 
pray for a blessing on the means which he should 
use to perform what seemed to him a religious 
duty. He does walk there in a very serious frame 
of mind, although his volubility exposes the excite- 
ment which possesses him as he contemplates the 
death he must so soon inflict. He comments on 
the skulls the grave-digger unearths, attributing 
them, in turn, to Cain, who first was guilty of a 
brother's murder; to a politician, who is now o'er- 
reached ; to a courtier; and to a lawyer. All have 
come to this one rendezvous, and he reflects that a 
king's skull will soon be added to the gruesome 
congregation. 

Horatio indulges Hamlet's soliloquizing, answer- 
ing only "Ay, my lord.", " No, my lord.", until 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 257 

finally their steps are arrested at the open pit. 
Hamlet questions the grave-digger about his busi- 
ness, and receives from him some mortuary statis- 
tics, but in all his questionings his mind reverts 
to the tenant he is so soon to furnish for another 
grave. He asks Horatio : 

Dost thou think Alexander looked o' this fashion i' the earth ? 

Alexander was a greater king than is his uncle, and 
to this complexion shall Claudius, too, soon come. 

Neither Hamlet nor Horatio knew for whose 
use the narrow bed they stood by was preparing. 
Horatio had gone to Hamlet a few hours after he 
had parted from Ophelia, and no message had 
brought him word of the tragedy that so soon had 
overtaken her. There was therefore no reason why 
he should seek to draw his friend away from the 
spot, and, while they still linger, the priests in pro- 
cession ; the body of Ophelia covered on her bier; 
Laertes and the mourners following ; and the king 
and queen and their train enter and stand beside 
the open grave. 

As they approach, Hamlet and Horatio retire 
behind the neighboring tombs. Hamlet wishes not 
yet to be seen by the king or queen. He is not 
inflamed to anger by the sight of his uncle, the time 
for that is past ; he is now a righteous avenger, and 
the calmness and strength of an assured mission 
possess him in the presence of the man he is com- 
pelled to sacrifice. His judgment tells him that he 
should not kill him there, in the church-yard, where 
his death would increase the sorrow of the friends 



258 THE TRUE STORY OF 

who are bringing their dear one to the grave, 
and he observes the interment with perfect com- 
posure. 

He does not remember that Horatio had prob- 
ably seen Laertes when he before came home from 
France — Hamlet had not met Horatio until after 
Laertes's departure — and he now points him out, 
with the words : 

That is Laertes, 
A very noble youth. 

Thus Hamlet's ingenuous mind judges the man 
who has already perfected the plot to kill 
him. He observes the obsequies, until Laertes's 
words : 

A ministering angel shall my sister be, 
When thou liest howling. 

reveal that it is his lost love whom they are here in- 
terring; then he throws himself into Horatio's arms, 
crying out under the sharp anguish of the revela- 
tion : 

What, the fair Ophelia ! 

All his smothered love for her overwhelms him. 
Death has lifted her above the reach of every 
earthly taint ; " all that remains of her now is pure 
womanly," and Hamlet's love for her resumes its 
sway. When Laertes leaps into his sister's grave, 
Hamlet advances and claims his right to mourn 
Ophelia. In all the obliviousness of his grief the 
words in which he announces himself show that 
he already sees the crown of Denmark in his 
possession. His uncle has no right to it, and 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 259 

will soon relinquish it, and Hamlet, realizing this, 

asserts : 

This is I, 
Hamlet the Dane. 

The Dane — the King. 

It is impossible fitly to comment on Hamlet's 
passion at Ophelia's grave ; it is as measureless as 
was his anguish ; but during the long four months 
since we saw Hamlet first he has been subject to 
heavy discipline and has had many and bitter op- 
portunities for the exercise of self-restraint. Now 
he clenches his hands and locks his teeth in a vain 
effort to control himself, but his heart-broken wail: 

I loved Ophelia : forty thousand brothers 
Could not, with all their quantity of love, 
Make up my sum. 

must have cleft the sky and reached Ophelia in the 
upper world. The music of these words, reaching 
her heart, would far overpower the chorus of the 
heavenly choirs. 

Hamlet finally recovers his self-command, and, 
afraid again to lose it, hastens away, Horatio fol- 
lowing. While his anguish had possessed him the 
king had made an effort to restrain Laertes from 
violence toward him, crying : 

O, he is mad, Laertes ! 

and the queen had appealed to Hamlet in Laertes's 

behalf: 

For love of God, forbear him. 

In the modern editions, the queen is also repre- 
sented as saying to Laertes, and the on-lookers : 



260 THE TRUE STORY OF 

This is mere madness : 
And thus awhile the fit will work on him ; 
Anon, as patient as the female dove, 
When that her golden couplets are disclosed, 
His silence will sit drooping. 

I think these lines are wrongly attributed to Ger- 
trude ; she has never believed in Hamlet's madness, 
and has never subscribed to the belief in it, except 
in what she told the king after Polonius's killing — 
and we know why she did this. In the First Quarto 
these lines, now given to the queen, are spoken by 
the king, — 

Forbeare Leartes, now is hee mad, as is the fea, 
Anone as milde and gentle as a Doue : 
Therfore a while giue his wilde humour fcope, — 

and in the Folio it is the king who says : 

This is meere Madnesse : 
And thus awhile the fit will worke on him : 
Anon as patient as the female Dove, 
When that her golden Cuplet are disclos'd ; 
His silence will sit .drooping. 

Only the Second Quarto gives this sentence to the 
queen, but in the First Quarto she does speak some 
words that are, however, omitted from the Second 
Quarto and the Folio : 

Alas, it is his madnes makes him thus, 
And not his heart, Leartes. 

Apart from the consideration that Gertrude does not 
believe in Hamlet's insanity, (and this she manifests 
even in this scene, by her question : 

O my son, what theme ? 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 261 

to which she expects an answer, and receives it ; 
and by her exhortation to Hamlet : 

For love of God, forbear him, — 

an exhortation it would be more than useless to ad- 
dress to a maniac in an outburst of frenzy,) Claudius 
is much more likely to advance the statement than 
the queen. He has already excused Polonius's 
murder by the statement to the Danes that Hamlet 
is mad, and this he has to adhere to. He fears the 
priests and courtiers will interfere if Laertes seri- 
ously attempts to kill the prince, and will rescue 
him alive ; in which case Hamlet will tell all he 
knows about his uncle's crime, to free himself from 
condemnation for Polonius's death — a death meant 
for the king. This Claudius fears, and his first 
effort is to restrain Laertes by the cry: 

O, he is mad, Laertes. 

He would be glad to convince the w r orld of this, 
for then Hamlet's revelation, if it could not be sup- 
pressed, he could attribute to the delusion of insan- 
ity. I think these lines — This is mere madness, etc., 
— should be restored to the king, to whom, in the 
Folio and the Second Quarto, they are given. In 
addition to the testimony of the text, we must con- 
sider that nowhere else does the queen seem to 
apologize for her son, directly or indirectly: she is 
always his defender, treating him with love and 
respectful consideration, espousing his cause against 
the world. Gertrude would not have consented to 
be present at the fencing-match if she had believed 



262 THE TRUE STORY OF 

her son insane : she would have known Laertes was 
exposed to be murdered by Hamlet. 

As Hamlet, attended by Horatio, leaves the circle 
around the grave, Claudius continues, speaking to 
Laertes, and not to all the courtiers : 

Strengthen your patience in our last night's speech : 
We'll put the matter to the present push. 

Turning to the queen he says : 

Good Gertrude, set some watch over your son. 

Then turning back to Laertes he continues: 

This grave shall have a living monument : 
An hour of quiet shortly shall we see ; 
Til then, in patience our proceeding be. 

Ophelia's funeral has lately been represented as 
taking place at night. Burial at night is said to be 
one of the " maimed rites " to which she was sub- 
jected, but there is no reason to believe this, and 
the text of the play indicates the contrary. As 
we have seen, Claudius, at her grave, says to 
Laertes: 

Strengthen your patience in our last night's speech : 
We'll put the matter to the present push. 

The " last night's speech" was the one in which the 
plan to kill H-amlet had been elaborated, and the 
"matter " was the fencing-match, which, as Claudius 
wished, should furnish a living monument for 
Ophelia's grave. In fulfillment of his design to 
" put the matter to the present push," he sent Osric 
to Hamlet with the challenge as soon as the funeral 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 26 



o 



train had returned to the palace. In the First 
Quarto he says to Laertes at the grave : 

Wee'le no longer trifle, 
This very day fhall Hamlet drinke his laft, 
For prefently we meane to fend to him, 
Therfore Leartes be in readynes. 

And Hamlet says to Osric : 

'tis the breathing time of day with me. 
All the text indicates that there was no long inter- 
val between Ophelia's burial and Osric's meeting 
with Hamlet in the hall of the castle whither the 
prince had gone to kill the king, and where the 
subsequent fencing-match and Claudius's death took 
place. The coming of Fortinbras and the English 
ambassadors immediately after the fencing-match, 
while Hamlet is still alive, strongly supports the 
belief that the fencing, and consequently the burial 
which preceded it, took place in the day-time. 

As Hamlet left Ophelia's grave he uttered some 
words of which I am not assured the critics see the 
relevancy, and yet, to my mind, they are very signifi- 
cant. His suffering and agitation were extreme, 
and his anger had leaped out against Laertes, who 
had grappled with him in the grave and choked 
him. Hamlet quickly exhibited great self-control, 
but it required great effort. At one moment he was 
about to renew the controversy with Laertes, and 
approached him saying : 

Hear you, sir ; 

What is the reason that you use me thus ? 

I loved you ever. 

But he immediately recollected himself, and the 



264 HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 

strong motive he had for self-repression closed his 
lips; he meant to kill the king on the first opportu- 
nity, and he would not run the risk of being killed 
under the pretense that he was dangerous. He 
arrested himself in his speech to Laertes by the 
thought that shortly he would have fulfilled the 
ghost's command, and would then be able to explain 
all his misjudged actions, and he expressed this 
to the audience by the words : 

but it is no matter ; 
Let Hercules himself do what he may, 
The cat will mew and dog will have his day. 

It was Hercules's turn, — the king's turn, then to 
put him in an equivocal position, but in an hour it 
would be his ; — the dog would have his day. 

He designed to express this a little later, when 
the audience might otherwise think his fencing with 
Laertes was procrastination. 

I am constant to my purposes ; they follow the king's 
pleasure : if his fitness speaks, mine is ready ; now or whenso- 
ever, provided I be as able as now. 

Hamlet knew the audience would see the double 
meaning in this speech, and understand that he was 
constant to his purpose to kill the king, and it was 
fit he should express this, on both occasions, even 
though they were already well assured of it. 



XXVIII. 

On the opening of the next scene we see that Ham- 
let, with Horatio, has gone directly from Ophelia's 
grave to the castle, there to meet the king as he had 
the day before announced he meant to do. On the 
way he has told Horatio what he had before with- 
held from him — the story of his mother's lapse from 
virtue, and his consequent decision to renounce 
Ophelia. He has told him that Polonius mistook 
his subsequent conduct for love-madness, and hid to 
gain the testimony to prove it, and that, mistaking 
him for the king, he had unintentionally killed him. 
Horatio knew how his friend had been sent away in 
company with Rosencrantz and Guildenstern (he 
believed, however, that Hamlet went as an ambas- 
sador to demand England's neglected tribute), and 
to this knowledge Hamlet alludes when we see him 
and Horatio, in a hall in the castle: 

So much for this, sir : 

{this being the story he he has been telling him en 
route) 

now shall you see the other ; 
You do remember all the circumstance ? 

— all the circumstances that preceded his embarka- 
tion. Then he briefly tells Horatio all that he had 

265 



266 THE TRUE STORY OF 

been subjected to since his departure ; he exposes 
the treachery of the king, and justifies himself for 
having sent Rosencrantz and Guildenstern to death, 
and finally, speaking of his uncle, asks his friend : 

Does it not, think'st thee, stand me now upon — 

is't not perfect conscience, 
To quit him with this arm ? and is't not to be damn'd, 
To let this canker of our nature come 
In further evil ? 

Horatio, who is as moderate as Hamlet is impas- 
sioned — and in this difference in their dispositions 
was the foundation of their friendship — does not 
reply directly to this question, but says : 

It must be shortly known to him from England 
What is the issue of the business there. 

and Hamlet rejoins : 

It will be short : the interim is mine; 

And a man's life's no more than to say ' One.' 

But I am very sorry, good Horatio, 

That to Laertes I forgot myself ; 

For, by the image of my cause, I see 

The portraiture of his : I'll court his favours : 

But, sure, the bravery of his grief did put me 

Into a towering passion. 

As these words are upon his lips Osric enters, 
bearing the challenge from the king in Laertes's 
name. This challenge gives Hamlet an opportunity 
he had not hoped for to court Laertes's favors ; 
it shows him that Laertes overlooks his agency in 
Polonius's death, and his violence at Ophelia's 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 267 

grave, and is willing to try a " brother's wager" 
with him. Hamlet has faith that an opportunity to 
kill the king will soon arise — if not, he can make 
one — but his nearest duty is to apologize to his 
friend. He had proclaimed his love for Ophelia 
in the presence of the priests and of the court, and 
he does not now mean to retreat from his confession. 
I think his words to Laertes — 

I have shot mine arrow o'er the house, 
And hurt my brother — 
and, 

I . . . will this brother's wager frankly play — 

are not purely figurative, but that they express his 
fraternal feeling toward the brother of his love. 

When Osric has delivered his message, Hamlet 
accepts the challenge, and says he is willing to play 
the match at once. He is impatient of any long 
delay, for he has more important business in hand. 
He does not play because the king requests it, but 
because a refusal would throw back Laertes's prof- 
fered reconciliation, and still farther affront him. 

The king and queen, with all the court, come to 
the hall to see the fencing. The queen has not yet 
embraced her son since his return, but throughout 
the match she shows her tender love in care for his 
comfort. The king, whose villainy has devised the 
coming murder, says : 

Come, Hamlet, come, and take this hand from me. 

Hamlet's response, as he grasps Laertes's hand, has 
been condemned as falsehood. If it were so, then 
this is not the first time Hamlet has departed from 



268 THE TRUE STORY OF 

the truth— his reply to Rosencrantz and Guilden- 
stern — 

I cannot . . . make you a wholesome answer: my wit's diseased — 

was equally untrue with this ; but we accepted that 
answer as justifiable irony, of which the audience 
saw the true interpretation. Hamlet speaks with the 
same intention now, but his audience is enlarged by 
the addition of the king : he also sees the irony of 
Hamlet's speech, but he dares not take exception to 
it. Hamlet's first words mean exactly what they 
say, and are a sufficient apology to Laertes: 

Give me your pardon, sir : I've done you wrong; 
But pardon't as you are a gentleman. 

The next lines are aimed at the king, to show him 
that Hamlet knows what excuses he must have used 
to Laertes. He does not know that Claudius has 
told the youth that the stab which killed Polonius 
was meant for the king ; he thinks his uncle has with- 
held this, fearing to be questioned by Laertes as to 
why Hamlet sought to take his ruler's life, and that 
he has untruly told him that Hamlet's madness was 
the only inciter to the deed. Therefore Hamlet 
continues : 

This presence knows, 

And you must needs have heard, how I am punish'd 

With sore distraction. 

In this strain he ambiguously expresses the absence 
of any intention to kill Polonius, concluding : 

Sir, in this audience, 
Let my disclaiming from a purpos'd evil 
Free me so far in your most generous thoughts, 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 269 

That I have shot mine arrow o'er the house, 
And hurt my brother. 

" In this audience " has a double application ; it 
means in the presence of the king, who knows the 
truth, and in the presence of the court, who witness 
my apology. 

Admitting, as we must, that irony is the weapon 
with which Hamlet has before defended himself, I do 
not see why we should expect his words now to con- 
form exactly to the truth. There is a bitter justice in 
his using for his excuse the madness Claudius had 
attributed to him for his condemnation. 

Laertes partially accepts Hamlet's apology, 
saying : 

I am satisfied in nature, 

Whose motive, in this case, should stir me most 

To my revenge : but in my terms of honour 

I stand aloof ; and will no reconcilement, 

Till by some elder masters, of known honour, 

I have a voice and precedent of peace, 

To keep my name ungored. But till that time, 

I do receive your offer'd love like love, 

And will not wrong it. 

This is Laertes's absolute lie in response to Ham- 
let's ironical statement. 

We see Laertes only for so short a time, early in 
the play, that we form no judgment of him, except 
that he is a loving brother. When he pushes into 
the king's presence demanding vengeance for his 
father's murder, we say, " This is a noble son." We 
are deluded by his loud words, and assume that 
filial love and reverence animate him to cry : 



270 THE TRUE STORY OF 

I'll be revenged 
Most throughly for my father. 

But before he parts from the king he makes most 
plain that it is not sorrow for his father's death, but 
vanity wounded at his obscure obsequies, for which 
he demands revenge. Formal ostentation is his 
idol, as it had been his father's. His nature has 
been so perverted by his education that he receives 
the king's suggestion to murder Hamlet without 
surprise or repulsion, and crowns the device with 
his own more devilish contrivance. The king knew 
Laertes's nature, and he knew how easily he could 
work him to this exploit. Laertes's honor was a 
name and not a thing. His character was the result 
of Polonius's teachings, and Shakespeare, showing 
us how easily it was corrupted, helps us to feel sure 
that Ophelia had no foundation of principle to keep 
her firm under temptation. 

There is no need to follow the fencing-match to 
its issue, nor to review the machinery by which the 
guilty actors in the drama are brought to breathe 
their life out there upon the stage. All are guilty, 
though not in the same degree. Claudius has killed 
his brother and aimed at Hamlet's life ; Hamlet 
himself has killed Polonius and the king, and pro- 
cured the deaths of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern ; 
Laertes has killed Hamlet ; and Gertrude, by her 
too easy lapse from virtue, has been the incentive 
and original of all these crimes. All die together. 
Innocent Ophelia has preceded them to the grave. 

This is nt>t the result Hamlet had pictured to 
himself when he resolved to obey the ghost's com- 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 271 

mand, and yet it is at last fulfilled to the most re- 
mote particular. Claudius is killed by Hamlet, and 
in an " act that has no relish of salvation in it." 
Thus his brother'sjoul and most unnatural murder 
is avenged. The other injunction of the ghost : 

Let not the royal bed of Denmark 

Be a couch for luxury and damned incest. 

is also obeyed, in letter and in spirit. The queen's 
dying words — 

No, no, the drink, the drink, — O my dear Hamlet, — 
The drink, the drink ! I am poison'd — 

which she spoke in repudiation of Claudius's state- 
ment — 

She swounds to see them bleed — 

show that she knows the king's treachery and would 
be glad to have him suffer for it. In dying Gertrude 
is eternally divorced from Claudius, and by her own 
will. The ghost's revenge is complete. 

If it did not appear that Hamlet had been the 
instrument to accomplish this, all his sufferings and 
Ophelia's would seem without result; but we recog- 
nize that Hamlet's visit to Ophelia's chamber — his 
first act as the direct result of the ghost's revelation 
— has been the cause of all that follows. His obe- 
dience and his efforts to obey do not result as he 
intended, but for this we should have been pre- 
pared. After the catastrophe we remember that 
Shakespeare has given us many hints that the end 
would not be that which Hamlet proposed in the 
beginning. The player king says: 



272 THE TRUE STORY OF 

Purpose is but the slave to memory, 

Of violent birth, but poor validity : 

Which now, like fruit unripe, sticks on the tree; 

But fall, unshaken, when they mellow be. 

What to ourselves in passion we propose, 
The passion ending, doth the purpose lose. 

Our wills and fates do so contrary run 

That our devices still are overthrown. 

Our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our own. 

Claudius says to Laertes : 

That we would do, 
We should do when we would ; for this ' would ' changes 
And hath abatements and delays as many 
As there are tongues, are hands, are accidents : 

Hamlet says to Horatio : 

Let us know, 
Our indiscretion sometimes serves us well, 
When our deep plots do pall. 



And 



There's a divinity that shapes our ends 
Rou<rh-hew them how we will. 



This constant obtrusion, in so many forms, of the 
thought, " Man proposes but God disposes," should 
have made us suspect that Hamlet would not exe- 
cute the ghost's command in the way in which he 
thought to accomplish it. In truth, the Tragedy of 
Hamlet is a dramatization of defeat. With the ex- 
ception of Hamlet, none of the characters in any 
way accomplish what they set out to do. 

The death of Hamlet is his crowning victory. 
How should he submit to live accompanied by the 



HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 273 

ghosts of Claudius, his mother, Polonius, Ophelia, 
his sometime friend Laertes, and his school-fellows, 
Rosencrantz and Guildenstern? These are the com- 
panions who would have peopled Hamlet's hours of 
solitude. In the presence of his God, who would 
judge the heart, and not alone the actions, he might 
hope to be freed from them forever. 

Hamlet's last words are uttered to his tried and 
true friend. They command Horatio to make clear 
to the world what Hamlet had planned to do and 
had done, and what were the causes for his actions. 

He says : 

Horatio, I am dead ; 
Thou livest ; report me and my cause aright 
To the unsatisfied. 
For a moment it seems as if Horatio's love will 
not bear the test imposed on it. To live without 
Hamlet is so much harder than to die for or with 
him. He seizes the goblet from which his friend 
had drunk his death, exclaiming: . 

Never believe it : 
I am more an antique Roman than a Dane : 
Here's yet some liquor left, 

but Hamlet, making a last supreme effort, wrenches 
it from him, and begs him, by the love that has so 
firmly united them, to suffer to live a little longer. 
As thou'st a man, 

Give me the cup : let go; by heaven I'll have it. 

O good Horatio, what a wounded name, 

Things standing thus unknown, shall live behind me ! 

If thou didst ever hold me in thy heart, 

Absent thee from felicity awhile, 

And in this harsh world draw thy breath in pain, 

To tell my story. 



274 HAMLET AND OPHELIA. 

Horatio's unselfish affection accepts this duty, 
and he sums up the story of the play in a few 
words when he says to Fortinbras, and the English 
ambassadors : 

And let me speak to the yet unknowing world 
How these things came about : so shall you hear 
Of carnal, bloody, and unnatural acts, 
Of accidental judgements, casual slaughters, 
Of deaths put on by cunning and forced cause, 
And, in this upshot, purposes mistook 
Fall'n on the inventors' heads ; all this can I 
Truly deliver. 

This speech contains, in the order in which they 
occurred, the epitome of every incident in the play. 
Who can doubt that the words, " accidental judge- 
ments," refer to Hamlet's judgment of Ophelia, 
which resulted from the ghost's revelation of Ger- 
trude's impurity? If they do not relate to this, to 
what do they allude? to what other episode early 
in the play can they refer ? 

The " carnal, bloody, and unnatural acts," are 
fratricide and adultery; the " casual slaughter " is 
the murder of Polonius ; " deaths put on by cun- 
ning and forced cause " means the killing of Rosen- 
crantz and Guildenstern by England ; and the clos- 
ing lines " and, in this upshot, purposes mistook 
fall'n on the inventors' heads," refer to Claudius's 
and Laertes's death by the means which they had 
prepared to remove Hamlet. Accidental judgements 
refers to something other than any of these occur- 
rences. Does it not point directly to Hamlet's 
answer to the question, " And shall I couple ? ' 



THE HYSTORIE OF HAMBLET. 



THE 



H YS T O R I E 

OF HAMBLET 






LONDON: 

Imprinted by Richard Bradocke, for Thomas Pauier, 
and are to be sold at his shop in Corne-hill, neere to 
the Royall Exchange. 

1608. 



THE ARGUMENT. 



IT is not at this present, neither yet a small time 
since that enuy raigningin the worlde ; hath in such 
sort blinded men, that without respect of consan- 
guinitie, friendship, or fauour whatsoeuer, they for- 
get themselues so much ; as that they spared not to 
defile their hands with the blood of those men, who 
I a ! 1 , Iaw 1 ? nd ri S ht the 7 ought chiefly to defend and 
cherish, l^or what other impression was it, that en- 
tered into Romulus heart, when under pretence of 
I know not what lawe, he defiled his hands with the 
blood o( his owne brother, but the abhominable v.ice 
of desire to raigne ? which if in all the accurrences 
prosperities, and circumstances thereof, it were well 
waved and considered, I know not any man that 
had not rather Hue at his ease, and priuately with- 
out charge, then being feared and honored of all 
men ; to beare all the charge and burden vpon his 
shoulders ; to serue and please the fantasies of the 
common people ; to Hue continually in feare & to 
see himself exposed to a thousand occasions o'f dan- 
ger ; and most commonly assailed and spoiled, when 
hee thinkes verily to hold Fortune as slaue to his 
fantasies & will: & yet buyes such and so great mis- 
ery for the vaine & fraile pleasures of this world 
with the losse of his owne soule : making so large a 
measure of his conscience, that it is not once mooued 
at any murther, treason, deceit, nor wickedness what- 
soeuer he committed, so the way may be opened and 
made plaine vnto him, whereby hee may attaine to 

278 



ARGUMENT. 279 

that miserable filicide, to command and gouerne a 
multitude of men (as I said of Romulus) who by a 
most abhominable action, prepared himselfe a way 
to heauen (but not by vertue.) 

The ambitious and seditious Orator of Rome, 
supposed the degrees and steps to heaven, & the 
wayes to vertue, to consist in the treasons, rauish- 
ments, & massacres committed by him, that first 
layd the foundations of that citty. And not to leaue 
the hystories of Rome ; what, I pray you incited An- 
cius Martinus, to massacre Tarquin the Elder, but 
the desire of raigning, as a king : who before had 
bin the onely man to moue and solicite the saide 
Tarquinius, to bereaue the righte heires and inher- 
iters thereof? What caused Tarquinius the Proud, 
traiterously to imbrue his hands in the blood of Ser- 
vius Tullius, his father in law, but onely that furnish 
and unbridled desire, to be commander ouer the 
cittie of Rome? which practice neuer ceased nor dis- 
continued, in the said principal cittie of the empire, 
as long as it was gouerned by the greatest & wisest 
personages, chosen and elected by the people: for 
therein haue beene seen infinite numbers of seditions, 
troubles, pledges, ransommings, confiscations and 
massacres, onely proceeding from this ground and 
principle: which entereth into mens hearts, & mak- 
eth them couet and desirous to be heads and rulers 
of a whole common wealth. And after the people 
were depriued of that libertie of Election, and that 
the Empire became subiect to the pleasure & fan- 
tasie of one man, commanding al the rest, I pray 
you peruse their bookes, and read diligently their 
Hystories ; and do but looke into the meanes vsed 
by the most part of their kings and Emperours, to 
attaine to such power and authoritie : and you shall 
see how poysons, massacres, and secret murthers, 
were the meanes to push them forwards, that durst 
not openly attempt it, or else could not compasse to 



280 ARGUMENT. 

make open warres. And for that the Hystory 
(which I pretend to shew vnto you) is chiefly 
grounded vpon treason, committed by one brother 
against the other ; I will not erre far out of the 
matter: thereby desiring to shew you, that it is and 
hath been a thing long since practised and put in 
vse by men, to spill the blood of their neerest kins- 
men and friends, to attaine to the honour of being 
great and in authoritie, and that there hath bin some, 
that being impatient of staying till their iust time of 
succession, haue hastened the death of their owne 
parents ; as Absolon would haue done to the holy 
king Dauid his father : and as wee read of Domitian, 
that poysoned his brother Titus, the most curtious 
and liberall Prince that euer swayed the empire of 
Rome. And God knowes we haue many the like 
examples in this our time, where the sonne conspired 
against the father : for that Sultan Zelin, Emperour 
of Turkes, was so honest a man, that fearing Baia- 
zeth his father, would die of 'his naturall death, and 
that thereby he should haue stayd too long for the 
Empire, bereaued him of his life: and Sultan Soli- 
man his successor, although he attempted not any 
thing against his father, yet being mooued with a 
certaine feare to bee deposed from his Emperie, 
& bearing a hatred to Mustapha his son (incited 
therunto by Rustain Bassa whom the Iewes en- 
emies to the yong prince, had by gifts procured 
therunto) caused him to be strangled with a bowe 
stringe, without hearing him (that neuer had of- 
fended his father) once speake to iustifie his inno- 
cencie. But let vs leave the Turkes like barbarians 
as they are, whose throne is ordinarily established 
by the effusion of the blood of those that are neerest 
of kindred and consanguinitie to the Empire, & con- 
sider what Tragedies haue bin plaid to the like ef- 
fect, in the memorie of our Ancestors, and with what 
charitie and love the neerest kindreds and friendes 



ARGUMENT. 281 

among them haue bin intertained; one of the other, 
if you had not the Hystories extant before you, if 
the memorie were not in a manner fresh, & known 
almost to euery man, I would make a long discourse 
thereof : but things being so cleare and euident, the 
truth so much discouered, & the people almost as it 
were glutted with such treasons, I will omit them 
& follow my matter, to shew you ; that if the iniqui- 
tie of a brother, caused his brother to loose his life, 
yet that vengeance was not long delayed : to the 
end that traitors may know, although the punish- 
ment of their trespasses committed, be stayed for 
awhile, yet that they may assure themselues, that 
without all doubt, they shal neuer escape thepuisant 
and revenging hand of God : who being slow to an- 
ger, yet in the ende doth not faile to shew some 
signes and euident tokens of his fearefull iudgement, 
vpon such as forgetting their duties, shed innocent 
blood, and betray their Rulers, whom they ought 
chiefly to honour, serue, and reuerence. 



THE PREFACE. 



ALTHOUGH in the beginning of this Hystorie, I had 
determined not to haue troubled with any other 
matter, than a Hystorie of our owne time, hauing 
sufficient tragicall matter to satisfie the minds of 
men : but because I cannot wel discourse thereof, 
without touching many personages, whom I would 
not willingly displease ; and partly because the Ar- 
gument that I haue in hand, seemed vnto me a 
thing worthy to bee offered to our French nobilitie 
for the great & gallant accurrences therein set 
downe : I haue somewhat strayed from my course, 
as touching the Tragedies of this our age : and, 
starting out of France and ouer Neitherlanders 
countries, I haue ventured to visit the Hystories of 
Denmarke, that it may serue for an example of ver- 
tue and contentment to our Nation (whom I spe- 
cially seeke to please), and for whose satisfaction, I 
haue not left any flower whatsoeuer vntasted, from 
whence I haue not drawne the most perfect and del- 
icate hony, thereby to bind them to my diligence 
herein : not caring for the ingratitude of the time 
present, that leaueth (and as it were reiecteth) with- 
out recompence, such as serue the Common-wealth, 
and by their trauell and diligence honourtheir coun- 
trey,*and illustrate the Realme of France ; so that 
often times the fault proceedeth rather from them, 
then from the great personages that haue other 
affaires which withdraw them from things that 
seeme of small consequence. Withall, esteeming 

282 



PREFACE. 283 

my selfe more than satisfied in this contentment and 
freedome which I now enioy, being loued of the 
Nobilitie, for whom I trauell without grudging ; fau- 
oured of men of learning & knowledge, for admiring 
& reuerencing them according to their worthinesse, 
and honoured of the common people, of whom al- 
though I craue not their iudgement, as not esteem- 
ing them of abilitie, to eternize the name of a worthy 
man, yet I account my selfe sufficiently happy to 
haue attained to this felicitie, that fewe or no men 
refuse, or disdaine to reade my workes, many admir- 
ing and wondering thereat: as there are some, that 
prouoked by enuie, blame and condemne it. To 
whom I confesse my selfe much bound and behold- 
ing, for by that their meanes, I am the more vige- 
lant, and so by my trauell much more beloued and 
honored then euer I was : which to mee is the great- 
est pleasure that I can inioy, and the most abun- 
dant treasures in my coffers, wherewith I am more 
satisfied and contented, then (if without comparison) 
I enioyed the greatest treasures in all Asia. Now 
returning to our matter, let vs beginne to declare 
the Hystorie. 



The Hystorie of Hamblet 



Prince of Denmarke. 



CHAPTER I. 

How Horuendile and Fengon were made Gouenours 
of the Prouince of Ditmarse,and how Homendile 
marryed Geruth, the daughter to Roderick, chief 
K. of Denmark; by whom he had Hamblet : and 
how after his marriage his brother Fengon slewe 
him trayterously, and marryed his brothers wife, 
and what followed. 

YOU must vnderstand, that long time before the 
Kingdome of Denmark receiued the faith of 
in T t^pa e st^ e u sus .Christ, and imbraced the doctrin of the 
and b ?nduiii Christians, that the common people in those dayes 
•were barbarous & vncivill, and their Princes cruell, 
without faith or loyaltie : seeking nothing but mur- 

^ Th of CrU t e he th r' and de P osin g ( or at the least) offending each 
other; either in honours, goods, or lives: not car- 
ing to ransome such as they tooke prisoners, but 
rather sacrificing them to the cruell vengeance, 
naturally imprinted in their hearts; in such 
sort, that if ther were sometimes a good prince, 
or king among them, who beeing adorned with 
the most perfect gifts of nature, would adict 
himselfe to vertue, and vse courtesie, although the 

284 



tie of the 
Danes. 



THE HYSTORIE OF HAMBLET. 285 

people held him in admiration (as vertue is admira- 
ble to the most wicked) yet the envie of his neigh- 
bors was so great, that they never ceased untill that 
vertuous man, were dispatched out of the world. 
King Rodericke, as then raigning in Denmarke, k; ^ ode [j c ^ e 
after hee had appeased the troubles in the countrey, marke. 
and driuen the Sweathlanders and Slaueans from 
thence, he diuided the kingdom into diuers Pro- 
uinces, placing Governours therein : who after (as 
the like happened in France) bare the names of 
Dukes, Marqueses, & Earls, giuing the government 
of Tutie (at this present called Ditmarsse) lying J utieat fJ"j 

i r s-*- • • 1 time, called 

vpon the countrey of Cimbnans, in the straight or then du- 
narrow part of land, that sheweth like a point or m 
cape of ground vpon the sea, which neithward 
bordereth vpon the countrey of Norway. Two 
valiant & warlike Lords, Horuendile and Fengon, 
sonnes to Geruendile, who likewise had beene 
gouernour of that Prouince. Now the greatest 
honor that men of noble birth could at that time 
win and obtaine,was in exercising the art of Piracie 
vpon the seas ; assayling their neighbours, & the 
countries bordering upon them : and how much 
the more they vsed to rob, pill, and ^poyle other 
Prouinces, and Hands farre adjacent, so much the 
more their honours and reputation increased and 
augmented : wherein Horuendile obtained the high- Horuendile 
est place in his time, beeing the most renouned pirnf.*" 
pirate that in those dayes scoured the seas, & hauens 
of the North parts : whose great fame, so mooued 
the heart of Collere, king of Norway, that he was Coiiereking 
muchgrieued to heare that Horvendile surmounting orway - 
him in feates of armes, thereby obscuring the glory 
by him alreadie obtained vpon the seas: (honor 
more than couetousnesse of richer, (in those dayes) 
being the reason that prouoked those barbarian 
princes, to ouerthrow and vanquish one the other ; 
not caring to be slaine by the handes of a victorious 



286 THE HYSTORIE OF II A MB LET, 

person. This valiant and hardy king, hailing chal- 
lenged Horuendile to fight with him body to body, 
the combate was by him accepted, with condition's, 
that hee which should be vanquished, should loose 
all the riches he had in his ship, and that the van- 
quisher should cause the body of the vanquished 
(that should bee slaine in the combate) to be honour- 
ably buried, death being the prise and reward of 
him that should loose the battaile : and to conclude, 
Collere, king of Norway (although a valiant, hardy, 
and couragious prince) was in the end vanquished 
skwCoiiS! ahd slaine by Horuendile: who presently caused a 
Tombe to be erected, and therein (with all honora- 
ble obseques fit for a prince) buried the body of 
king Collere, according to their auncient manner, 
and superstitions in those dayes, and the conditions 
of the combate, bereauing the Kings shippes of all 
their riches, and hauing slaine the kings sister, a 
very braue and valiant warriour, and ouerrunne all 
the coast of Norway, and the Northren Hands, 
returned home againe layden with much treasure, 
sending the most part thereof to his soueraigne, 
king Rodericke, thereby to procure his good liking, 
and so to be accounted one of the greatest 
fauourites about his maiestie. 

The King allured by those presents, and esteem- 
ing himselfe happy to haue so valiant a subiect, 
sought by a great fauour and coutesie, to make 
sonne H to mletn ! m become bounden vnto him perpetually, giuing 
Horuendile. him Geruth his daughter to his wife, of whom he 
knew Horvendile to bee already much inamored : 
and the more to honor him, determined himselfe in 
person to conduct her into Jutie, where the marriage 
was celebrated according to the ancient manner : 
and to be briefe, of this marriage proceeded Ham- 
blet, of whom I intend to speake, and for his cause 
haue chosen to renew this present Hystorie. 

Fengon brother to this Prince Horuendile, who 



PRINCE OF DENMARKE. 287 

[not] ] onely fretting and despighting in his heart 
at the great honor and reputation wonne by his 
brother in warlike affaires, but solicited and pro- Fengon, his 
uoked (By a foolish jelousie) to see him honored against his 
with royall aliance,~and fearing thereby to bee de- brothen 
posed from his part of the gouernment : or rather 
desiring to be onely Gouernor: thereby to obscure 
the memorie of the victories and conquests of his 
brother Horuendile ; determined (whatsoeuer hap- 
pened) to kill him. Which hee effected in such 
sort, that no man once so much as suspected him, 
euery man esteeming that from such and so firme a 
knot of alliance and consanguinitie, there could pro- 
ceed no other issue than the full effects of vertue 
and courtesie : but (as I sayd before) the desire of 
bearing soueraigne, rule and authoritie, respecteth 
neither blood nor amitie, nor caring for vertue as 
being wholly without respect of lawes, or maiestie 
diuine : for it is not possible that hee which inuadeth 
the countrey & taketh away the riches of an other 
man without cause or reason, should know, or feare 
God. Was not this a craftie and subtile Counsellor ? 
but he might haue thought that the mother, know- 
ing her husbands case, would not cast her sonne into 
the danger of death. But Fengon, hairing secretly 
assembled certain men, & perceiuing himself strong 
enough to execute his interprise, Horuendile, his 
brother being at a banquet with his friends, 
sodainely set vpon him, where he slewe him as , ... Fengon 

J , L • 1 1 ii- 1 r r killeth his 

traiterously, as cunningly he purged nimselte 01 so brother, 
detestable a murther to his subiects : for that before 
he had any violent or bloody handes, or once com- 
mitted parricide vpon his brother, hee had incestu- 
ously abused his wife, whose honour hee ought as 
well to haue sought and procured, as traiterously he 
pursued and effected his destruction ; and it is most 

1 [Not, not in the text.] 



288 THE HYSTORIE OF HAMBLET, 

certaine, that the man that abandoneth himselfe to 

any notorious and wicked action, whereby he be- 

commeth a great sinner, hee careth not to commit 

much more haynous and abhominable offences, & 

couered his boldnesse and wicked practise with so 

great subtiltie and policie, and vnder a vaile of meere 

simplicitie, that beeing fauoured for the honest loue 

that hee bare to his sister in lawe, for whose sake hee 

affirmed, he had in that sort murthered his brother, 

that his sinne found excuse among the common 

people, & of the Nobilitie was esteemed for iustice : 

for that Geruth being as courteous a princesse, as any 

then liuing in the North parts, and one that had 

neuer once so much as offended any of her subiects, 

either commons or Courtyers ; this adulterer and 

infamous murtherer, slaundered his dead brother, 

that hee would have slaine his wife, and that hee by 

chance finding him vpon the point ready to doe it, 

in defence of the Lady had slaine him, bearing off 

the blows which as then hee strooke at the innocent 

Princesse, without any other cause of malice whatso- 

euer : wherein hee wanted no false witnesses to 

approoue his act, which deposed in like sort, as the 

wicked calumniator himselfe protested, being the 

same persons that had born him company, & were 

participants of his treason, so that instead of pursu- 

sianderers ing him as a paricide & an incestuous person, al the 

no°u r r e ed°in Courtyers admired and flattered him in his good 

vmuous 11 fortun e : making more account of false witnesses 

persons. and detestable wicked reporters, and more honouring 

the calumniators, then they esteemed of those that 

seeking to call the matter in question, and admiring 

the vertues of the murthered Prince, would hauepun- 

The incestu- ished the massacrers and bereauers of his life. Which 

o^F^ngon^ was the cause that Fengon, boldned and incouraged 

Thers wife" " h Y such impunitie, durst venture to couple himselfe in 

marriage with her, whom hee vsed as his Concubine 

during good Horuendiles life, in that sort spot- 



PRINCE OF DENMARKE. 289 

ting his name with a double vice, and charging his 
conscience with abhominable guilt, and two fold 
impietie, as incestuous adulterie, and parricide 
murther: and that the vnfortunate and wicked 
woman, that had receaued the honour to bee the 
wife of one of the valiantest and wisest Princes in 
the North, im based her selfe in such vile sort, as to 
falsifie her faith vnto him, and which is worse, to 
marrie him, that had bin the tyranous murtherer of 
her lawfull husband : which made diuers men thinke, 
that she had beene the causer of the murther, thereby 
to Hue in her adultery without controle. But where 
shall a man finde a more wicked & bold woman, 
then a great personage, once hauing loosed the 
bands of honor and honestie : This Princesse who . 
at the first, for her rare vertues and courtesies was 
honored of al men, and beloued of her husband, as 
soone as she once gaue eare to the tyrant Fengon, 
forgot both the ranke she helde among the greatest 
dames, and the dutie of an honest wife on her be- 
halfe. But I will not stand to gaze and meruaile at 
women : for that there are many which seeke to 
blase and set them foorth : in which their writings, 
they spare not to blame them all for the faults of 
some one, or fewe women. But I say, that either 
Nature ought to haue bereaued man of that opinion 
to accompany with women, or els to endow them 
with such spirits, as that they may easily support 
the crosses they endure, without complaining so 
often and so strangel)/ - , seeing it is their owne beast- 
linesse that ouerthrowes them. For if it be so, that , If ^ m fl ,e 

decerned by 

a woman is so imperfect a creature, as they make a woman, it 
her to be : and that they know this beast, to bee so beasUineTs" 6 
hard to bee tamed as they affirme : why then are 
they so foolish to preserue them, and so dull and 
brutish as to trust their deceitfull and wanton im- 
braceings. But let us leaue her in this extreamitie 
of laciuiousnesse, and proceed to shewe you, in what 



290 THE HYSTORIE OF HAMBLET, 

sort the yong Prince Hamlet behaued himselfe, to 
escape the tyranny of his vncle. 



CHAPTER II. 

How Hamblet counterfeited the mad man, to escape 
the tyrannie of his vncle, and how he was tempted 
by a woman {through his vncles procurement) 
who thereby thought to vndermine the Prince, and 
by that meanes to finde out whether he counter- 
feited madnesse or not : and 'how Hamblet would 
by no meanes bee brought to consent vnto her ; and 
what followed. 

Gervth hauing (as I sayd before) so much forgot- 
ten herself, the Prince Hamblet perceiuing him 
selfe to bee in danger of his life, as beeing aban- 
doned of his owne mother, and forsaken of all men; 
and assuring himselfe that Fengon would not detract 
the time, to send him the same way his father Hor- 
uendile was gone : to beguile the tyrant in his sub- 
tilties (that esteemed him to bee of such a minde, 
that if he once attained to mans estate, he wold 
not long delay y e time to reuenge the death of his 
father) counterfeiting the mad man with such craft 
& subtill practises, that he made shewe as if hee had 
vtterly lost his wittes : and vnder that vayle hee 
couered his pretence, and defended his life from the 
treasons and practises of the tyrant his vncle. And 
all though hee had beene at the schoole of the 
Romane Prince, who because hee counterfeited him- 
selfe to bee a foole, was called Brutus : yet hee 
imitated his fashions, and his wisedom. For euery 
day beeing in the Queenes Palace (who as then was 
more carefull to please her whoremaster, then ready 
to reuenge the cruell death of her husband, or to 
restore her sonne to his inheritance) hee rent and 



PRINCE OF DENMARKE. 291 

tore his clothes, wallowing and lying in the durt and 
mire, his face all filthy and blacke, running through 
the streets like a man distraught, not speaking one 
worde, but such as seemed to proceede from mad- 
nesse, and meere frenzie, all his actions and iestures 
beeing no other, then the right countenances of a 
man wholly depriued of all reason and vnderstand- 
ing : in such sort, that as then hee seemed fitte for 
nothing, but to make sport to the Pages and ruffling 
Courtiers, that attended in the court of his vncle 
and father in law. But the yong Prince noted them 
well enough, minding one day to bee reuenged in 
such manner, that the memorie thereof should 
remaine perpetually to the world. 

Beholde, I pray you, a great point of a wise, and 
braue spirite in a yong Prince, by so great a shewe 
of imperfection in his person for aduancement, and 
his owne imbasing and despising, to worke the 
meanes and to prepare the way for himselfe to bee 
one of the happiest Kings in his age. In like sort, 
neuer any man was reputed by any of his actions 
more wise and prudent then Brutus, dissembling a t Brutu se= 

1 . r . teemed wist, 

great alteration in his mmde, for that the occasion for counter- 
of such his deuise of foolishnesse, proceeded onely fie. 8 Read 
of a good and mature counsell and deliberation ; not SdifaMcaS 
onely to preserue his goods, and shunne the rage of nassus - 
the proude Tyrant, but also to open a large way to 
procure the banishment and vtter ruine of wicked 
Tarquinius, and to infranchise the people (which 
were before oppressed) from the yoake of a great 
and miserable seruitude. And so not onely Brutus, 
but this man and worthy prince, to whom wee may 
also adde King David, that counterfeited the madde Da "»d«>un- 

o ' terfeited the 

man among the petie kings of Palestina, to preserue mad man, 
his life from the subtill practises of those kings. I Aches. m& 
shew this example, vnto such as beeing offended 
with any great personage, haue not sufficient meanes 
to preuaile in their intents, or reuenge the iniurie 



es- 
ise. 



292 THE H YS TOR IE OF HA MBLE T, 

by them receiued : but when I speake of reuenging 
any iniury receiued, vpon a great personage, or 
Rom. 8. 21. superior: it must be vnderstood by such an one as 
is not our soueraigne, againste whome wee maie by 
no meanes resiste, nor once practise anie Treason 
nor conspiracie against his life : and hee that will 
followe this course, must speake and doe all things 
whatsoeuer that are pleasing and acceptable to him 
whom hee meaneth to .deceiue, practise his actions, 
and esteeme him aboue all men, cleane contrarye to 
his owne intent and meaning ; for that is rightly to 
playe and counterfeite the foole, when a man is con- 
strained to dissemble, and kisse his hand, whome 
in hearte hee could wishe an hundred foote depth 
vnder the earth, so hee mighte neuer see him more : 
if it were not a thing wholly to bee disliked in a 
christian, who by no meanes ought to haue a bitter 
gall, or desires infected with reuenge. Hamblet in 
this sorte counterfeiting the madde man, many times 
did diners actions of great and deepe consideration, 
and often made such and so fitte answeres, that a 
wise man would haue iudged from what spirite so 
fine an inuention might proceede ; for that standing 
by the fire and sharpning sticks like poynards and 
prickes, one in smiling manner asked him wherefore 
he made those little staues so sharpe at the points, I 
a subtin prepare (saith he) piersing dartes, and sharpe ar- 
SbceHam- rowes i to reuenge my fathers death, fooles as I said 
let - before, esteemed those his words as nothing ; but 

men of quicke spirits, and such as hadde a deeper 
reache began to suspect somewhat, esteeming that 
vnder that kinde of folly there lay hidden a great 
and rare subtilty, such as one day might bee preiu- 
diciall to their prince, saying that vnder colour of 
such rudenes he shadowed a crafty pollicy, and by 
his devised simplicitye, he concealed a sharp and 
pregnant spirit, for which cause they counselled the 
king to try & know if it were possible, how to dis- 



PRINCE OF DENMARK'S. 293 

couer y e intent & meaning of y e yong prince, & 
they could find no better, nor more fit inuention to 
intrap him, then to set some faire, and beawtifull 
woman in a secret place, that with flattering speeches 
and all the craftiest meanes she could vse, should 
purposely seek to allure his mind to haue his pleas- 
ure of her : for the nature of all young men (speci- 
ally such as are brought vp wantonlie) is so trans- Na t t " re in or_ 
ported with the desires of the flesh, and entreth so man 6 
greedily into the pleasures therof, that it is almost 
impossible to couer the foul affection neither yet to 
dissemble or hyde the same by art or industry, much 
lesse to shunne it. What cunning or subtilty so 
euer they vse to cloak theire pretence, seeing occa- 
sion offered, and that in secret, specially in the most 
inticing sinne that rayneth in man, they cannot 
chuse (being constrayned by voluptuousnesse), but 
fall to naturall effect and working. To this end cer- Subtiities 
taine courtiers were appointed to leade Hamblet couer HamI 
into a solitary place within the woods, whether they ^ e e s ts mad ~ 
brought the woman, inciting him to take their pleas- 
ures together, and to imbrace one another, but y e 
subtill practise vsed in these our daies, not to try if 
men of great account bee extract out of their wits, 
but rather to depriue them of strength, vertue, Corrupters 
and wisedome, by meanes of such deuilish practi-S e men g m en 
tioners, and intefernall spirits, their domestical ser- ^unsand 
uants, and ministers of corruption : and surely theg reat 

nouses* 

poore prince at this assault had bin in great danger, 
if a gentleman (that in Horuendiles time had bin 
nourished with him) had not showne himselfe more 
affectioned to the bringing vp he had receiued with 
Hamblet, then desirous to please the Tirant, who by 
all meanes sought to intangle the sonne in the same 
nets wherein the father had ended his dayes. This 
gentleman bare the courtiers (appointed as afore- 
saide of this treason) company, more desiring to giue 
the prince instructions what he should do, then to 



294 THE HYSTORIE OF HAMBLET, 

intrap him making full account that the least showe 
of perfect sence and wisedome that Hamblet should 
make, would be sufficient to cause him to loose his 
life : and therfore by certain signes he gaue Ham- 
blet intelligence, in what danger hee was like to fall 
if by any meanes hee seemed to obaye, or once like 
the wanton toyes, & vicious prouocations of the gen- 
tle woman, sent thither by his Uncle : which much 
abashed the prince, as then wholy beeing in affection 
to the Lady, but by her he was likewise informed of 
the treason, as being one that from her infancy loued 
and fauoured him, and would haue been exceeding 
sorrowfull for his misfortune, and much more to 
leaue his companie without inioying the pleasure 
of his body, whome she loued more than her selfe. 
The Prince in this sort having both deceiued the 
courtiers, and the Ladyes expectation, that affirmed 
and swoore that hee neuer once offered to haue his 
pleasure of the woman, although in subtilty hee 
affirmed the contrary : euery man there vpon as- 
sured themselues that without all doubt hee was 
distraught of his sences, that his braynes were as 
then wholly void of force, and incapable of reason- 
able apprehension, so that as then Fengons practise 
took no effect: but for al that he left not off: still 
seeking by al meanes to finde out Hamblets subtilty : 
as in the next chapter you shall perceiue. 



CHAPTER III. 

How Fengon, vncle to Hamblet, a second time to in- 
trap him in his pollitick madnes : caused one of 
his counsellors to be secretly hidden in the Queenes 
chamber : beJiind the arras, to heare what speeches 
past bet wee ne Hamblet and the Queen and how 
Hamblet killed him, and escaped that danger and 
what follozvcd. 

AMONG the friends of Fengon, there was one that 



PRINCE OF DENMARKE. 295 

aboue al the rest, doubted of Hamblets practises, in 
counterfeiting the madman, who for that cause said, 
that it was impossible that so craftie a gallant as 
Hamblet that counterfeited the foole, should be dis- Another 

1 • 1 o 1 Mr ii x- 1 • 1 subtiltvvsed 

couered with so common & vnskilfull practises, which to deceiue 
might easily bee percieued, and that to finde out n j s Hamblet - 
politique pretence it were necessary to inuent some 
subtill and crafty meanes, more attractiue, whereby 
the gallant might not haue the leysure to vse his 
accustomed dissimulation, which to effect he said he 
knewe a fit waie and a most conuenient meane to 
effect the kings desire, and thereby to intrap Hamblet 
in his subtilties, and cause him of his owne accord 
to fall into the net prepared for him, and thereby eui- 
dently shewe his secret meaning: his deuise was thus, 
that King Fengon should make as though he were to 
goe some long voyage, concerning affayres of great 
importance and that in the meane time Hamblet 
should be shut vp alone in a chamber with his 
mother, wherein some other should secretly be hid- 
den behind the hangings, vnknowne either to him or 
his mother, there to stand and heere their speeches, 
and the complots by them to bee taken, concerning 
the accomplishments of the dissembling fooles pre- 
tence, assuring the king that if there were any point 
of wisedome and perfect sence in the gallants spirit 
that without all doubte he would easily discouer it to 
his mother as being deuoid of all feare that she would 
vtter or make knowne his secret intent, beeing the 
woman that had borne him in her bodie, and nour- 
ished him so carefully, and withall offered himselfe 
to be the man, that should stand to harken, and 
beare witnesse of Hamblets speeches with his mother, 
that hee might not be esteemed a counsellor in such 
a case, wherein he refused to be the executioner, for 
the behoofe and seruice of his prince. This inuen- 
tion pleased the king exceeding well, esteeming it as 
the onelie and soueraigne remedie to heale the prince 



296 THE HYSTORIE OF HA MB LET, 

of his lunacie, and to that ende making a long voy- 
age issued out of his pallace, and road to hunt in the 
forrest, meane time the counsellor entred secretly 
into the Queenes chamber, and there hid himselfe be- 
sub Yn t y blets hind the arras, not long before the Queene and 
Hamblet came thither, who being craftie and polli- 
tique, as soone as hee was within the chamber 
doubting some treason, and fearing if he should 
speake seuerely and wisely to his mother touching 
his secret practises he should be vnderstood, and by 
that meanes intercepted, vsed his ordinary manner of 
dissimulation, and began to come like a cocke beat- 
ing with his armes, (in such manner as cockes vse to 
strike with their wings), vpon the hangings of the 
chamber, whereby feeling something stirring vnder 
them, he cried a rat a rat, and presently drawing 
Acruel , re -his sworde thrust it into the hangings, which done, 

uenge taken , , , /1 1 r 1 i\ 1 11 1 

by Hambiet pulled the counsellour (nalte dead) out by the lieeles, 
thatVould made an end of killing him, and beeing slaine, cut 
hfm e betraid his bodie in peeces, which he caused to be boyled 
and then cast it into an open vaulte or priuie, that 
so it mighte serue for foode to the hogges, by which 
meanes hauing discouered the ambushe, and giuen 
the inuenter thereof his iust rewarde, hee came 
againe to his mother, who in the meane time wepte 
and tormented her selfe, to see all her hopes frus- 
trate, for that what fault soeuer she had committed, 
yet was shee sore grieued to see her onely child 
made a meere mockery, euery man reproaching her 
with his folly, one point whereof she had as then 
seene before her eyes, which was no small pricke to 
her conscience, esteeming that the Gods sent her 
that punishment for ioyning incestuously in mar- 
riage with the tyrrannous murtherer of her husband, 
who like wise ceased not to inuent all the means he 
Queene could, to bring his nephew to his ende, accusing his 

Geruthes re- fc> . *■ . . 

pentance. owne naturall indiscretion, as beeing the ordinary 
guide of those that so much desire the pleasures of 



PRINCE OF DENMARKE. 297 

the bodie, who shutting vp the waie to all reason 
respect not what maie ensue of their lightnes, and 
greate inconstancy, and how a pleasure of small mo- 
ment is sufficient to giue them cause of repentance, 
during their Hues, and make them curse the daye 
and time that euer any such apprehensions, entred 
into theire mindes, or that they closed theire eies to 
reiect the honestie requisite in Ladies of her quali- 
tie, and to despise the holy institution of those 
dames that had gone before her both in nobilitie 
and vertue, calling to mind the great prayses and 
commendations giuen by the Danes to Rinde daugh- 
ter to King" Rothere, the chastest Lady in her time, ? inde a 

o ' J ' princes ot an 

and withall so shamefast that she would neuer con- admirable 
sent to marriage with any prince or knight whatso- 
euer, surpassing in vertue all theladyes of her time, 
as shee herselfe surmounted them in beawtie, good 
behauiour, and comelines, and while in this sort she 
sate tormenting herselfe, Hamlet entred into the 
chamber, who hauing once againe searched euery 
corner of the same, distrusting his mother as well as 
the rest, and perceiuing himselfe to bee alone, 
began in sober and discreet manner to speak vnto 
her saying, 

What treason is this, O most infamous woman! 
of all that euer prostrated themselues to the will of 
an abhominable whore-monger-whovnder the vail of 
a dissembling creature couereth the most wicked and 
detestable crime that man could euer imagine, or was 
committed. How may I be assured to trust you, 
that like a vile wanton adulteresse, altogether impu- 
dent & giuen ouer to her pleasure, runnes spreading 
forth her armes ioyfully to imbrace the trayterous 
villanous tyrant, that murthered my father, and most 
incestuously receiuest the villain into the lawfull 
bed of your loyall spouse, impudently entertaining 
him in steede of the deare father of your miserable 
and discomforted sonne, if the gods graunt him not 



298 THE HYSTORIE OF HAM B LET, 

the grace speedilie to escape from a captiuity so 
vnworthie the degree he holdeth, and the race & 
noble familie of his ancestors. Is this the part of a 
queene, and daughter to a king? to Hue like abruite 
beast (and like a mare that yeeldeth her bodie to the 
horse that hath beaten hir companion awaye,) to 
followe the pleasure of an abhominable king that hath 
murthered a farre more honester and better man 
then himself in massacring Horuendile, the honor, 
and glory of the Danes, who are now esteemed of 
no force nor valour at all, since the shining splen- 
dure of knighthood, was brought to an end by the 
most wickedest, and cruellest villaine liuing vpon 
earth : I for my part will neuer account him for my 
kinsman, nor once knowe him for mine vncle, nor 
you my deer mother for not hauing respect to the 
blud that ought to haue vnited us so straightly to- 
gether, & who neither with your honor nor without 
suspition of consent to the death of your husband 
could euer haue agreed to haue marryed with his 
cruell enemie: O Queene Geruthe, it is the part of a 
bitch, to couple with many, and desire acquaintance 
of diuers mastiffes : it is licentiousnes only that hath 
made you deface out of your minde the memory of 
the valor & vertues of the good King your husband 
and my father: it was an unbrideled desire that guid- 
ed the daughter of Roderick to imbrace the Tirant 
Fengon, & not to remember Horuendile (vnworthy 
of so strange intertainment), neither that he killed his 
brother traiterously, and that shee being his fathers 
wife betrayed him, although he so well fauoured and 
loued her, that for her sake he vtterly bereaved Nor- 
way of her riches and valiant souldiers, to augment 
the treasures of Roderick, and make Geruthe wife to 
the hardyest prince in Europe. It is not the parte 
of a woman, much less of a princesse, in whome all 
modesty, curtesie, compassion and loue ought to 
abound, thus to leaue herdeare child to fortune in the 



PRINCE OF DENMARKE. 2 99 

bloody & murtherous hands of a villain and traytor, 
bruite beasts do not so; for Lyons, Tygers, ounces 
and leopards fight for the safety and defence of 
their whelpes; and birds that haue beakes, claws 
and wings, resist such as would rauish them of 
their yong ones, but you to the contrary expose and 
deliuer mee to death, whereas ye should defend me. 
Is not this as much as if you should betray me, 
when you knowing the peruersenes of the tyrant and 
his intents, ful of deadly counsell as touching the 
race & image of his biother, haue not once sought 
nor desired to finde the meanes to saue your child 
(& only son) by sending him into Swethland, Nor- 
way, or England, rather then to leaue him as a pray 
to youre infamous adulterer? bee not offended I 
pray you Madame, if transported with dolour and 
griefe I speake so boldely vnto you, and that I re- 
spect you lesse then dutie requireth, for you haumg 
forgotten mee, and wholy reiected the memorye of 
the deceased K. my father, must not bee abashed if 
I also surpasse the bounds and limits of due con- 
sideration, Beholde into what distress I am now 
fallen, and to what mischiefe my fortune and your 
ouer great lightnesse, and want of wisdome haue 
induced mee, that I am constrained to playe the 
madde man to saue my life in steed of vsing and 
practising armes, following aduentures, and seeking 
all meanes to make my selfe knowne to bee the 
true and vndoubted heire to the valiant and 
vertuous King Horuendile, it was not without 
cause, and iuste occasion, y* my gestures, coun- 
tenances, and words seeme all to proceed from 
a madman, and that I desire to haue all men es- 
teeme mee wholly depriued of sence and reason- 
able vnderstanding, bycause I am well assured, that 
he hath made no conscience to kill his owne brother, 
(accustomed to murthers, & allured with desire of 
gouernement without controll in his treasons) will not 



300 THE HYSTORIE OF HA MB LET, 

spare to saue himselfe with the like crueltie, in the 
blood, & flesh of the loyns of his brother, by him 
massacred : & therefore, it is better for me to fayne 
madnesse then to vse my right sences as nature hath 
bestowed them vpon me, The bright shining clear- 
nes thereof I am forced to hide vnder this shadow of 
dissimulation, as the sun doth hir beams vnder 
some great cloud, when the wether in sommer time 
ouercasteth: the face of a mad man, serueth to 
couer my gallant countenance, & the gestures of a 
fool are fit for me, to y e end that guiding myself 
wisely therin I may preserue my life for y e Danes, 
& the memory of my late deceased father, for y* 
the desire of reuenging his death is so ingrauen in 
my heart y* if I dye not shortly, I hope to take 
such and so great vengeance, that these Countryes 
shall foreuer speake thereof. Neuerthelesse I must 
stay the time, meanes, and occasion, lest by making 
ouer great hast, I be now the cause of mine owne 
sodaine ruine and ouerthrow, and by that meanes, 
end, before I beginne to effect my hearts desire : hee 
v s rsubtntie that hath to doe with a wicked, disloyall, cruell, 
toadisioyaiiand discourteous man, must vse craft, and politike 
inuentions, such as a fine witte can best imagine, 
not to discover his interprise: for seeing that by 
force I cannot effect my desire, reason alloweth me 
by dissimulation, subtiltie, and secret practises to 



weTpe f™ ust P roceed therein. To conclude, weepe not (Madame) 
our owne to see my folly, but rather sigh and lament vour 
not for other owne ottence, tormenting your conscience in regard 
^ns. of the infamie that hath so defiled the ancient re- 

nowne and glorie that (in times past) honoured 
Queene Geruth : for wee are not to sorrowe and 
grieue at other mens vices, but for our owne mis- 
deedes, and great follyes. Desiring you, for the sur- 
plus of my proceedings, aboue all things (as you 
loue your owne life and welfare) that neither the 
king, nor any other may by any meanes know 



PRINCE OF DENMARKE. 3 QI 

mine intent, and let me alone with the rest, for I 
hope in the ende to bring my purpose to effect. 

Although the Queene perceiued herselfe neerly 
touched, and that Hamlet mooued her to the quicke, 
where she felt her selfe intressed : neuerthelesse shee 
forgot all disdaine & wrath, which thereby she might 
as then haue had, hearing her selfe so sharply, 
chiden & reprooued, for the ioy she then conceaued, 
to behold the gallant spirit of her sonne, and to 
thinke what she might hope, & the easier expect of 
his so great policie and wisdome. But on the other 
side she durst not lift vp her eyes to behold him, 
remembring her offence, & on the other side she 
would gladly haue imbraced her son, in regard of 
the wise admonitions by him giuen vnto her, which 
as then quenched the flames of unbridled desire 
y* before had moued her to affect K. Fengon : to 
ingraff in her heart y e vertuous actions of her law- 
full spouse, whom inwardly she much lamented, 
when she beheld the liuely image and portraiture of 
his vertue & great wisedome in her childe, represent- 
ing his fathers haughtie and valiant heart : and so 
ouercome and vanquished with this honest passion, 
and weeping most bitterly, hauing long time fixed 
her eyes vpon Hamlet, as beeing rauished into some 
great and deepe contemplation, & as it were wholy 
amazed ; at the last imbracing him in her armes 
(with the like loue that a vertuous mother may or 
can vse, to kisse and entertaine her owne childe) she 
spake vnto him in this manner. 

I know well (my Sonne) that I haue done thee 
great wrong in marrying with Fengon, the cruell 
tyrant and murtherer of thy father, and my loyali 
spouse : but when thou shalt consider the small 
meanes of resistance, and the treason of the Palace, 
with the little cause of confidence we are to expect 
or hope for of the Courtiers, all wrought to his will : 
as also the power hee made ready, if I should haue 



3° 2 • THE HYSTORIE OF HAMBLET, 

refused to like of him, thou wouldest rather excuse, 
then accuse me of lasciuiousnes or inconstancy, 
much lesse offer me that wrong, to suspect that 
euer thy mother Geruthe once consented to the 
death & murther of her husband : swearing vnto 
thee (by the maiestie of the Gods) that if it had 
layne in my power to haue resisted the tyrant, 
although it had beene with the losse of my blood, 
yea and my life, I would surely haue saued the life 
of my Lord and husband, with as good a will & 
desire, as since that time, I haue often beene a 
meanes to hinder and impeach the shortning of thy 
life, which being taken away, I will no longer Hue 
here vpon earth : for seeing that thy sences are 
whole and sound, I am in hope to see an easie 
meanes inuented for the reuenging of thy fathers 
death. Neverthelesse, mine owne sweet sonne, if 
thou hast pittie of thy selfe, or care of the memorie 
of thy father (although thou wilt do nothing for 
her that deserueth not the name of a mother in 
this respect), I pray thee carie thine affayres wisely, 
bee not hastie, nor ouer furious in thy interprises, 
neither yet aduance thy selfe more then reason shall 
mooue thee to effect thy purpose. Thou seest there 
is not almost any man wherein thou mayest put thy 
trust, nor any woman to whom I dare vtter the least 
part of my secrets, that would not presently report 
it to thine aduersarie, who, although in outward shew 
he dissembleth to love thee, the better to injoy his 
pleasures of me, yet hee distrusteth and feareth mee 
for thy sake, and is not so simple to be easily per- 
swaded, that thou art a foole or mad, so that if thou 
chance to doe any thing that seemeth to proceed of 
wisedome or policie (how secretly soeuer it be done) he 
will presently be informed thereof, and I am greatly 
afraide that the deuils haue shewed him, what hath 
past at this present between vs: (Fortune so muche 
pursueth and contrarieth our ease and welfare) or 



PRINCE OF DENMARK E. 3°3 

that this murther that now thou hast committed, be 
not the cause of both our destructions, which I by no 
meanes will seeme to know, but will keepe secret 
both thy wisedome & hardy interprise. Beseeching 
the Gods (my good sonne) that they, guiding thy 
heart, directing thy counsels and prospering thy in- 
terprise, I may see thee possesse and inioy that 
which is thy right, and weare the crowne of Den- 
marke, by the Tyrant taken from thee : that I may 
reioice in thy prosperitie, and therewith content my 
self, seeing with what courage and boldness thou 
shalt take vengeance vpon the murtherer of thy 
father, as also vpon all those that haue assisted and 
fauoured him in hismurtherous and bloody enterprise. 
Madame (sayd Hamlet) I will put my trust in you, 
and from hencefoorth meane not to meddle further 
with your affayres, beseeching you (as you loue 
your own flesh and blood) that you will from hence 
foorth no more esteeme of the adulterer mine ene- 
mie, whom I wil surely kill, or cause to be put to 
death, in despite of all the deuils in hel : and haue 
he neuer so manie flattering courtezans 1 to defend 
him yet will I bring him to his death, & they them- 
selues also shall beare him company therein : as 
they haue bin his perverse counsellors in the action 
of killing my father, and his companions in his trea- 
son, massacre, and cruell enterprise. And reason 
requireth, that euen as trayterously they then 
caused their prince to bee put to death, that with 
the like (nay well much more) iustice they should 
pay the interest of their fellonious actions. 

You know (Madame) how Hother your grand- fa JJ°* h t o r ' 
father, and father to the good king Roderick, hau-Roderkke. 
ing vanquished Guimon, caused him to be burnt, 
for that the cruell vilain had done the like to his b"rS°his 
lord Geuare, whom he betrayed in the night time. Iord Geuare - 

1 Courtiers. 



3°4 THE HYSTORIE OF HAMBLET, 

We must And who knoweth not that traytors and periured 
^heTTalth- 1 " persons deserve no faith nor loyaltie to be obserued 
fidSSeto towardes them, and that conditions made with mur- 
^aytogor therers, ought to be esteemed as cobwebs, and ac- 
counted as if they were things neuer promised nor 
agreed vpon : but if I lay handes vpon Fengon, it 
will neither be fellonie nor treason, hee being neither 
my King nor my Lord : but I shall iustly punish 
him as my subiect, that hath disloyaly behaued him- 
selfe against his Lord & soueraigne prince: and 
seeing that glory is the rewarde of the vertuous, 
and the honour and praise of those that doe seruice 
to their naturall Prince, why should not blame and 
dishonour accompany Traytors, & ignominious 
death al those that dare be so bold as to lay violent 
hands vpon sacred Kings, that are friends & com- 
panions of the gods, as representing their maiestie 
& persons. To conclude, glorie is the crowne of 
vertue, & the price of constancie, and seeing that it 
neuer accompanieth with infelicitie, but shunneth 
cowardize and spirits of base & trayterous conditions, 
it must necessarily followe, that either a glorious 
death will be mine ende, or with my sword in hand, 
(laden with tryumph and victorie) I shall bereaue 
them of their Hues, that made mine vnfortunate, & 
darkened the beames of that vertue which I pos- 
sessed from the blood and famous memory of my 
Predecessors. For why should men desire to Hue, 
when shame & infamie are the executioners that 
torment their consciences, and villany is the cause 
that withholdeth the heart from valiant interprises, 
and diuerteth the minde from honest desire of 
glorie and commendation, which indureth for euer? 
I know it is foolishly done, to gather fruit before it 
is ripe, & to seeke to enioy a benefit, not knowing 
whither it belong to vs of right : but I hope to 
effect it so well, and haue so great confidence in my 
fortune (that hitherto hath guided the action of 



PRINCE OF DENMARKE. 3°5 

my life) that I shall not dye, without reuenging my 
selfe vpon mine enemie, and that himselfe shall be 
the instrument of his owne decay, and to execute 
that which of my selfe I durst not haue enterprised. 
After this, Fengon (as ifheehad beene out some 
long iourney") came to the Court againe, and asked 
for him that had receiued the charge to play the 
intelligencer, to entrap Hamlet, in his dissembled 
wisdome, was abashed to heare neither newes nor 
tydings of him, and for that cause asked Hamlet 
what was become of him: naming the man. The 
Prince that neuer vsed lying, and who in all the 
answers that euer he made (during his counterfeit 
madnesse) neuer strayed from the trueth (as a gen- 
erous minde is a mortal enemie to vntruth) an- 
swered and sayd, that the counsellor he sought for, 
was gone dovvne through the priuie, where being 
choaked by the filthynesse of the place, the Hogs 
meeting him had filled their bellyes. 



CHAPTER IIII. 

Hoiv Fengon the third time deuised to send Hamblet 
to the king of England, with secret letters to 
haue him put to death : and Jiozv Hamblet, when 
his companions slept, read the Letters, and in- 
stead of them, counterfeited otJiers, willing the 
king of England to put the two Messengers to 
death, and to marry his daughter to Hamblet, 
which was effected, and how Hamblet escaped out 
of England. 

A MAN would have iudged any thing rather then 
that Hamblet had committed that murther, neuer- 
thelesse Fengon could not content himselfe, but 
still his minde gaue him, that the foole would play 
him some tricke of Liegerdemaine, and willing 
would haue killed him, but he feared king Roder- 



3°6 THE HYSTORIE OF HAMBLET, 

icke, his father in law, and further durst not offend 
the Queene, mother to the foole, whom she loued & 
much cherished : shewing great griefe and heauiness 
to see him so transported out of his wits. And in 
that conceit, seeking to bee rid of him, determined 
to finde the meanes to doe it by the ayde of a stran- 
ger, making the king of England minister of his 
massacring resolution, choosing rather that his friend 
should defile his renowne, with so great a wicked- 
nesse, then himselfe to fall into perpetuall infamie, 
by an exploit of so great crueltie, to whom hee pur- 
posed to send him, and by letters desire to him to 
put him to death. 

Hamblet vnderstanding that he should be sent 
into England, presently doubted the occasion of his 
voyage, and for that cause speaking to the Queene, 
desired her not to make any shew of sorrow or griefe 
for his departure, but rather counterfeit a gladnesse, 
as being rid of his presence, whom, although she 
loued, yet she dayly gcieued to see him in so pitifull 
estate, depriued of all sence and reason : desiring 
her further, that she should hang the hall with tap- 
estrie, and make it fast with nayles upon the walles, 
and keepe the brands for him which he had sharp- 
ened at the points, then, when as he said he made ar- 
rowes to reuenge the death of his father : lastly, he 
counselled her, that the yeere after his departure be- 
ing accomplished, she should celebrate his funerals: 
assuring her, that at the same instant, she should 
see him returne with great contentment and pleas- 
ure vnto her for that his voyage. Now to beare 
him company, were assigned two of Fengon's faith- 
full ministers, bearing Letters ingraved in wood, 
that contained Hamlets death, in such sort as he 
had aduertised the King of England. But the sub- 
tile Danish prince (beeing at sea) whilest his com- 
panions slept, hauing read the letters, and knowne 
his vncles great treason, with the wicked and villain- 



PRINCE OF DENMARKE. 3° 7 

ous mindes of the two courtyers that led him to 
the slaughter ; raced out the letters that concerned Hambiets 
his death, and in stead thereof graued others, with ^[.^ save 
Commission to the king of England to hang his two 
companions, and not content to turne the death 
they had deiused against him vpon their owne 
neckes, wrote further, that king Fengon willed him, 
to gaue his daughter to Hamlet in manage : and so 
-arriuing in England, the Messengers presented 
themselues to the King, giuing him Fengons Let- 
ters ; who hauing read the contents, sayd nothing 
as then, but stayed conuenient time to effect Fen- 
gons desire; meane time vsing the Danes familiarly, 
doing them that honour to sit at his table (for that 
kings as then were not so curiously nor solemnely 
serued as in these our dayes), for in these dayes 
meane kings and lords of small reuenewe are as 
difficult and hard to bee seene, as in times past the 
monarches of Persia vsed to be : or as it is reported 
of the great king of Aethyopia who (wil not permit 
any man to see his face, which ordinarily he couereth 
with a vaile.) And as the Messengers sate at the 
table with the king, subtile Hamlet was so far from 
being merry with them, that would not taste one 
bit of meate, bread, nor cup of beare whatsoeuer, as 
then set vpon the table, not without great wonder- 
ing of the company, abashed to see a yong man 
and a stranger, not to esteeme of the delicate meates 
& pleasant drinkes serued at the banquet, reiecting 
them as things filthy, euill of tast, & worse prepared. 
The king who for that time dissembled what he 
thought, caused his ghests to be conueyed into their 
chamber, willing one of his secret seruantes to hide 
himselfe therein, & so certifie him what speeches 
past among the Danes at their going to bed. 

Now they were no sooner entred into the cham- 
ber, and those that were appointed to attend vpon 
them gone out, but Hamlets companions asked 



308 THE HYSTORIE OF HA MB LET, 

him, why he refused to eate and drinke of that 
which hee found vpon the table, not honouring the 
banquet of so great a king, that entertained them 
in friendly sort, with such honour and courtesie as 
it deserued : saying further, that hee did not well, 
but dishonoured him that sent him, as if he sent 
men into England that feared to bee poysoned, by 
so great a king. The Prince that had done nothing 
without reason and prudent consideration, answered 
them and sayd : What think you, that I wil eat 
bread dipt in humane blood, and defile my throate 
with the rust of yron, and vse that meat that 
stinketh and sauoureth of mans flesh, already putri- 
fied and corrupted, and that senteth like the sauour 
of a dead carryon long since cast into a valt : and 
how would you haue mee to respect the King, that 
hath the countenance of a slaue, and the Queene 
who in stead of great majestie, hath done three 
things more like a woman of base parentage, & fitter 
for a waiting Gentlewoman then beseeming a Lady 
of her qualitie and estate : & hauing sayd so, vsed 
many iniurious & sharpe speeches as well against 
the king & queene, as others that had assisted at 
that banquet for the intertainment of the Danish 
Ambassadors : and therein Hamblet said trueth, as 
hereafter you shall heare, for that in those dayes, 
the North parts of the worlde liuing as then under 
Sathans lawes, were full of inchanters, so that there 
was not any yong gentleman whatsoeuer, that 
knew not something therein sufficient to serue his 
turne, if need required: as yet in those dayes in 
Gothland & Biarmy, there are many y* knew not 
what the christian religion permitteth, as by read- 
ing the histories of Norway & Gothland you may 
easilie perceiue: and so Hamlet, while his father 
liued had been instructed in that deuilish art, 
whereby the wicked spirite abuseth mankind, and 
aduertiseth him (as he can) of things past. 



PRINCE OF DENMARKE. 3°9 

It toucheth not the matter herein to discouer the 
parts of deuination in man, and whether this prince 
by reason of his ouer great melancholy, had receiued 
those impressions, deuining that, which neuer any 
but himselfe had before declared, like the Philo- 
sophers, who discoursing of diuers deep points of 
philosophic, attribute the force of those diuinations 
to such as are Saturnists by complection who, often- 
times speake of things which their fury ceasing, 
they then alreadye can hardly vnderstand who are 
the pronouncers, and for that cause Plato saith, 
many deuiners and many poets, after the force and 
vigour of theire fier beginneth to lessen, do hardly 
vnderstand what they haue written, although 
intreating of such things, while the spirite of 
deuination continueth vpon them, they doe in such 
sort discourse thereof that the authors and inuenters 
of the arts themselues by them ahedged commend 
their discourses & subtill disputations. Likewise I 
mean not to relate y* which diuers men beleeue y* 
a reasonable soul, becommeth y e habitation of a 
meaner sort of diuels, by whom men learn the 
secrets of things natural, & much lesse do I account 
of y e supposed gouernors of y e world fained by 
magitians by whose means they brag to effect 
meruailous things ; It would seeme miraculous y t 
Hamlet shold divine in y* sort, which after prooued 
so true (if as I said before) the diuel had not know- 
ledg of things past, but to grant it he knoweth 
things to come I hope you shall neuer finde me in 
so grose an error, you will compare and make equall 
deriuation, & coniecture with those that are made 
by the spirit of God, and pronounced by the holy 
prophets, that tasted of that maruelous science, to 
whome onely, was declared the secrets & wondrous 
workes of the almighty. Yet there are some 
imposturious companions that impute so much 
deuinitie to the Diuell the father of lyes, y* they 



3 1 o THE H YS TOR IE OF HA MBL E T, 

attribute vnto him the truth of the knowledge of 
thinges that shall happen vnto men, alledging the 
conference of Saul with the witch although one 
example out of the holy scriptures, specially set 
down for the condemnation of wicked man is not of 
force to giue a sufficient law to all the world, for 
they themselues confesse, that they can deuine, not 
according to the vniuersal cause of things, but by 
signes borrowed from such like causes, which are 
all waies alike, and by those coniectures they can 
giue iudgement of thinges to come, but all this bee- 
ing grounded vpon a weake support, (which is a 
simple conjecture) & hauing so slendera foundation, 
as some foolish or late experience the fictions being 
voluntarie, It should be a great folly in a man of 
good iudgment specially one that imbraceth the 
preachn of the gospell, & seeketh after no other but 
the trueth thereof, to repose vpon any of these 
likelihoods or writings full of deceipt. 

As touching magical operations, I will grant them 
somewhat therein, finding diuers histories y* write 
thereof, & that the Bible maketh mention and for- 
biddeth the vse thereof, yea the lawes of the gentiles 
and ordinances of Emperors, haue bin made against 
it, in such sort, that Mahomet the great Hereticke & 
friend of the Diuell by whose subtiltyes hee abused 
most part of the East countries hath ordained great 
punishments for such as vse and practise those unlaw- 
full & damnable arts which for this time leauing of, 
let vs returne to Hamblet, brought vp in these abuses, 
according to the manner of his country, whose com- 
panions hearing his answere reproached him of folly, 
saying that hee could by no meanes show a greater 
point of indiscretion, Then In despising that which is 
lawfull, and reiecting that which all men receaued, as 
a necessary thing and that hee had not grossely so 
forgotten himselfe, as in y* sort to accuse such and so 
excellent a man as the king of England; and to slander 



PRINCE OF DENMARKE. 31 1 

the Queene, being then as famous and wise a princes, 
as any at that day raigning in the Hands there- 
abouts, to cause him to be punished, according to 
his deserts, but he continuing in his dissimulation, 
mocked him, saying that hee had not done any thing 
that was not good & most true : on the other side 
the King being aduertised therof by him that stood 
to heare the discourse, iudged presently that Ham- 
let speaking so ambiguously was either a perfect 
foole, or else one of the wisest princes in his time, 
answering so sodainly, and so much to the purpose, 
vpon the demaund by his companions, made touch- 
ing his behauiour, and the better to finde the trueth 
caused the babler to be sent for, of whome inquir- 
ing in what place the corne grew whereof he made 
bread for his table, and whether in that ground 
there were not some signes or newes of a battaile 
fought whereby humaine blood had therein been 
shed, the babler answered that not far from thence 
there lay a field ful of dead mens bones : in times 
past slaine in a battaile, as by the greate heapes of 
wounded scullea, mighte well appeare and for that 
the grounds in that parte was become fertiler then 
other grounds by reason, of the fatte and humours 
of the dead bodies, y* euery yeer the farmers vsed 
there to haue in y e best wheat they could finde to 
serue his majesties house. The King perceiuing it 
to be true, according to the yong princes wordes, 
asked where the hogs had bin fed that were killed 
to be serued at his table, and answere was made him, 
that those hogs getting out of the saide fielde where- 
in they were kepte had found the bodie of a thiefe 
that had beene hanged for his demerits, and had 
eaten thereof : whereat the King of England beeing 
abashed, would needs know with what water the 
beer he vsed to drinke of, had beene brued, which 
hauing knowne, he caused the riuer to be digged 
somewhat deeper, and therin found great store of 



3 1 2 THE H YS TOR IE OF HA MBLE T, 

swords and rustie armours, that gaue an ill savour 
to the drinke. It were good that I should heere di- 
late somewhat of Merlius prophesies which are said 
to be spoken of him before he was fuly one yeere 
old, but if you consider wel what hath al reddy been 
spoken it is no hard matter to diuine of things past, 
although the minister of Sathan therein played his 
part giuing sodaine and prompt answeres, to this 
yong prince, for that herein are nothing but natural 
things, such as were wel known to be true, and there- 
fore not needfull to dreame of thinges to come. This 
knowne, the King greatly moued with a certaine curi- 
ositie, to knowe why the Danish prince saide that he 
had the countenance of a slaue suspecting thereby 
that he reproached the basenes of his blood and that 
he wold affirme that neuer any prince had bin his 
sire, wherin to satisfie himselfe, he went to his 
mother, and leading her into a secret chamber, which 
he shut as sooneas they were entted desired her of 
her honour to shewe him of whome he was ingendred 
in this world. The good Lady, wel assured that 
neuer any man had bin acquainted w* her loue, 
touching any other man then her husband, sware 
that the King her husband onely was the man that 
enioyed the pleasures of her body, but the king hir 
sonne, alreadie with the truth of the Danish princes 
answers, threatned his mother to make her tell by 
force, if otherwise she would not confesse it, who for 
feare of death acknowledged that she had prostrated 
her body to a slaue, & made him father to the king 
of England whereat the king was abashed and wholy 
ashamed, I giue them leauetoludge who esteeming 
themselues honester than theire neighbours, & sup- 
posing that there can be nothing amisse in their 
houses, make more enquirie then is requisite to 
know y e which they would rather not haue known, 
neuerthelesse dissembling what he thought, & biting 
vpon the bridle, rather than he would depriue him- 



PRINCE OF DEN MA RKE. 3 1 3 

selfe, by publishing the lasciuiousnes of his mother, 
thought better to leaue a great sin vnpunished, then 
thereby to make himselfe contemptible to his sub- 
iects, who peraduenture would haue reiected him as 
not desiring to haue a bastard to raigne ouer so 
great a kingdome. 

But as he was sorry to hear his mother's confes- 
sion, on the otherside he tooke great pleasure in the 
subtilry, and quick spirit of the yong prince, and for 
that cause went vnto him to aske him why he had 
reprooved three things in his Queene conuenient 
for a slaue, and sauouring more of basenes then of 
royaltie, & far unfit for the maiesty of a great prince, 
The king not content to haue receiued a great dis- 
pleasure by knowing him selfe to be a bastard, & to 
haue heard w* what injuries he charged her whom 
hee loued best in all the world, would not content 
himself vntill he also vnderstood y* which displeased 
him, as much as hisowne proper disgrace, which was 
that his Queen was the daughter of a chambermaid 
and with all noted certaine foolish countenances, she 
made, which not onely shewed of what parentage 
she came, but also y* hir humors sauored of the 
basenes and low degree of hir parents, whose mother 
he assured the king was as then yet holden in serui- 
tude. The king admiring the young, prince, and 
behoulding in him some matter of greater respect 
then in the common sort of men, gaue him his daugh- 
ter in marriage, according to the counterfet letters by 
him deuised, & the next day caused the two seruants 
of Fengon to be executed, to satisfie, as he thought 
the king's desire ; but Hamlet, although y e sport 
plesed him wel, & that the King of England could 
not haue done him a greater fauour, made as though 
he had been much offended, threatening the king to 
be reuenged, but the King to appease him gaue him 
a great sum of gold, which Hamlet caused to be 
molten, and put it into two staues, made hollow for 



3 1 4 THE HYS7 OR IE OF HA MBLE T, 

the same purpose, to serue his tourne there with as 
neede should require, for of all other the kings treas- 
ures he took nothing w* him into Denmark but 
onely those two staues, and as soone as the yeere 
began to bee at an end hauing somewhat before ob- 
tained licence of the King his father in law to de- 
part, went for Denmarke, Then with all the speed 
hee could to returne againe into England to marry 
his daughter and so set sayle for Denmarke. 



CHAPTER V. 

How Hamblet hailing escaped out of England, arriued 
in Denmarke the same day that the Danes were 
celebrating his funerals, supposing him to be dead 
in England, and how he reuenged his fathers death 
vpon his Vncle and the rest of the Courtiers ; and 
what followed : 

HAMBLET in that sort sayling into Denmark, being 
arriued in the contry entred into the pallace of his 
Uncle the same day that they were celebrating his 
funeralls, and going into the Hall, procured no 
small astonishment and wonder to them all, no 
man thinking other but that hee had beene deade ; 
among the which many of them reioyced not a 
little, for the pleasure which they knew Fengon 
would conceaue for so pleasant a losse, and some 
were sadde, as remembring the honourable king Hor- 
uendile, whose victories they could by no meanes 
forget, much lesse deface out of theire memories 
that which apperteined vnto him, who as then 
greatly reioyced to see a false report ^spread of 
Hamlets death, and that the tyrant had not as yet 
obtained his will of the heire of Jutie, but ratfier 
hoped God would restore him to his sences againe 
for the good and welfare of that province. Their 



^ 



PRINCE OF DENMARKE. 315 

amazement at the last beeing tourned into laugh- 
ter, all that as then were assistant at the funerall 
banquet, of him whome they esteemed dead, mocked 
each at other, for hairing beene so simply deceiued, 
and wondring at the Prince, that in his so long a 
voyage he had not recouered any of his sences, 
asked what was become of them that had borne him 
company into greate Brittain, to whom he made 
answere (shewing them the two hollow staues, 
wherein he had put his molten golde, that the king 
of England had giuen him to appease his fury, con- 
cerning the murther of his two companions) and 
said, here they are both. Whereat many that 
already knew his humours, presently coniectured 
that hee had plaide some tricke of legerdemane, 
and to deliuer himselfe out of danger, had throwne 
them into the pitte prepared for him, so that fear- 
ing to follow after them and light vpon some euil 
adventure, they went presently out of the court, and 
it was well for them that they didde so, considering 
the Tragedy acted by him the same daie, beeing ac- 
counted his funerall, but in trueth theire last daies, 
that as then reioyced for their ouerthrow; for when 
euery man busied himselfe to make good cheare, 
and Hamlets ariuall prouoked them more to drinke 
and carouse, the prince himselfe at that time played 
the Butler and a gentleman attending on the tables, 
not suffering the pots nor goblets to bee empty, 
whereby hee gaue the noble men such store of liquor, 
that all of them being ful laden with wine, and 

gorged with meate, were constrained to lay them- common in 
11 1 1 1 1 1 1 the nortn 

selues downe in the same place where they had partes of the 

supt, so much their sences were dulled, and ouer- w 

come with the fire of ouer great drinking, (a uice 

common and familiar among the Almaines, and other 

nations inhabiting the north parts of y e wor[l]d) 

which when Hamlet perceiuing, & finding so good 

opportunitie to effect .his purpose & bee reuenged 



Drunkenes 
> a vice over 



3 1 6 THE H YS TOR IE OF HA MB L E 7\ 

of his enemies, & by y e means to abandon the 
actions gestures & apparel of a mad man, occasion 
so fitly finding his turn, & as it were effecting it 
selfe failed not to take hold therof, & seeing those 
drunken bodies, filled with wine, lying like hogs, 
vpon the ground, some sleeping, others vomiting 
the ouer great abundance of wine which without 
measure they had swallowed vp, made the hangings 
about the hall to fall downe & couer them all ouer, 
which he nailed to the ground, being boorded, & 
at the endes thereof he stuck the brands whereof I 
spake before by him sharpned, which serued for 
prickes, binding and tying the hangings, in such 
sort, that what force soeuer they vsed to loose them- 
selues, it was vnpossible to get from vnder them, 
and presently he set fire in the foure corners of the 
hal, in such sort that all that were as then therin 
not one escaped away but were forced to purge 
their sins by fire, & dry up the great aboundance 
of liquor by them receiued into their bodies, all of 
them dying in the vneuitable and mercilesse flames 
of the whot & burning fire which the prince per- 
ceiuing, became wise, & knowing y* his vncle 
before the end of the banquet had withdrawn him- 
a strange selfe into his chamber, which stood apart from the 
taken S b y place where the fire burnt, went thither, & entring 
Hamlet. j ntQ ^ e chamber, layd hand vpon the sword of his 
fathers murtherer, leauing his own in the place, 
which while he was at the banket some of the 
courtiers had nailed fast into the scaberd, & going 
to Fengon said, I wonder disloyal king how thou 
canst sleep heer at thine ease: & al thy pallace is 
burnt the fire thereof hauing burnt y e greatest part 
of thy courtiers & ministers of thy cruelty, & de- 
but A et^h2 e testable tirannies, & which is more I cannot imagin 
and sting- how thou sholdst wel assure thy self, & thy estate, 
SfliSE'to y as now to take thy ease, seeing Hamlet so neer thee 
his vncie. arrne d w ith y e shafts by him prepared long since & 



PRINCE OF DEN MA R KE. 3 1 7 

and at this present is redy to reuenge the traiterous 
iniury by thee done to his Lord & Father. 

Fengon as then knowing y e truth of his nephews 
subtile practise, & hering him speak w* stayed mind, 
and which is more, perceiued a sword naked in his 
hand, which he already lifted vp to depriue him of 
his life, leaped quickly out of the bed, taking holde 
of Hamlets sworde, that was nayled into the 
scaberd, which as hee sought to pull out, Hamlet 
gaue him such a blowe vpon the chine of the necke, 
that hee cut his head cleane from his shoulders, and 
as he fell to the ground sayd : This iust and violent 
death is a first reward for such as thou art, now go 
thy waves, & when thou commest in hell, see thou 
forget not to tell thy brother (whom thou trayter- 
ously slewest) that it was his sonne that sent thee 
thither with the message, to the ende that beeing 
comforted thereby, his soule may rest among the 
blessed spirits, and quit mee of the obligation which 
bound me to pursue his vengeance vpon mine owne 
blood, that seeing it was by thee, that I lost the 
chiefe thing that tyed me to this aliance & consan- 
guinitie. A man (to say the trueth) hardie, courag- 
ious, and worthy of eternall commendation, who 
arming himself with a crafty, dissembling and 
strange shew of beeing distract out of his wits, 
vnder that pretence deceiued the wise, pollitike, and 
craftie : thereby not onelie preseruing his life from 
the treasons & wicked practises of the Tyrant, but 
(which is more) by an new & vnexpected kinde of Commen . 
punishment reuenged his fathers death: manyi atio "°' 

r f . & ... ' Hamlet for 

yeeres atter the act committed: in no such sort killing the 
that directing his courses with such patience, & Tyrant - 
effecting his purposes, with so great boldnes & con- 
stancie, he left a judgement to be decyded among 
men of wisdom, which was more commendable in 
him, his constancy or magnanimitie, or his wisdom 



3 1 8 THE II YS TORIE OF HA MBLE T, 

in ordring his affaires, according to the premeditable 
determination he had conceaued. 
How iust If vengeance euer seemed to haue any shew 

uengeance r • , • • • 1 i • 1 rr 

ought to be ot mstice, it is then, when pietie and affection 

considered. cons traineth vs to remember our fathers uniustly 

murdred, as the things wherby we are dispensed 

withal, & which seeke the means not to leaue 

Dauids in- treason and murther vnpunished: seeing Dauid a 

nt"ndTng° m ~ n °ly & mst king, & of nature simple, courteous and 

Salomon to debonaire, yet when he dyed he charged his sonne 

reuenge him p. , /, i i i • ' • i • i \ 

of some of balomon (that succeeded him in his throane) not to 
his enemies. gu ^ er cer t a j ne me n that had done him iniurie to 

escape vnpunished: Not that this holy King (as 
then readie to dye, and to giue account before God 
of all his actions) was carefull or desirous of re- 
uenge, but to leaue this example vnto us, that where 
the Prince or Country is interessed, the desire of 
reuenge cannot by any meanes (how small soeuer) 
beare the title of condemnation, but is rather com- 
mendable and worthy of praise : for otherwise the 
good kings of Iuda, nor others had not pursued 
them to death, that had offended their predecessors, 
if God himselfe had not inspired and ingrauen that 
desire within their hearts. Hereof the Athenian 
lawes beare witnesse, whose custome was to erect 
Images in remembrance of those men that, reueng- 
ing the iniuries of the Common wealth, boldly mas- 
sacred tyrants and such as troubled the peace and 
welfare of the Citizens. 

Hamblet hauing in this manner reuenged him- 
selfe, durst not presently declare his action to the 
people, but to the contrary determined to worke by 
policie, so to giue them intelligence, what he had 
done, and the reason that drewe him thereunto ; so 
that beeing accompanied with such of his fathers 
friends, that then were rising, he stayed to see what 
the people would doe, when they shoulde heare of 
that sodaine and fearefull action. The next morn- 



PRINCE OF DENMARKE. 3 J 9 

ing the Townes bordering there aboutes, desiring to 
know from whence the flames of fire proceeded the 
night before they had seene, came thither, and per- 
ceiuing the kings Pallace burnt to ashes, & many 
bodyes (most part consumed) lying among the 
rvines of the house, all of them were much abashed, 
nothing being left of the Palace but the foundation : 
but they were much more amased to beholde the 
body of the king all bloody, & his head cut off 
lying hard by him, whereat some began to threaten 
reuenge, yet not knowing against whom : others 
beholding so lamentable a spectacle armed them- 
selues, the rest reioycing, yet not daring to make 
any shewe thereof, some detesting the crueltie, 
others lamenting the death of their Prince, but the 
greatest part calling Horuendiles murther to re- 
membrance, acknowledging a iust iudgement from 
aboue, that had throwne downe the pride of the 
Tyrant : and in this sort, the diuersities of opinions 
among that multitude of the people, being many, 
yet euery man ignorant what would be the issue of 
that Tragedie, none stirred from thence, neither yet 
attempted to moue any tumult, euery man fearing 
his owne skinne, and distrusting his neighbour, 
esteeming each other to bee consenting to the 
massacre. 



CHAPTER VI. 

How Hamlet halting slaine his uncle, and burnt his 
Palace, made an Oration to the Danes, to shezv 
them what he done : and hozv they made him 
king of Denmarke, and what follozved. 

HAMLET then seeing y e people to be so quiet, & 
most part of them not vsing any words, all search- 
ing onely and simply the cause of this ruine and 



320 THE HYSTORIE OF H AMBLE T, 

destruction, not minding to loose any time, but ayd- 
ing himself with the commodotie thereof, entred 
among the multitude of people, and standing in the 
middle spake vnto them, as followeth. 

If there be any among you (good people of Den- 
mark) that as yet haue fresh within your memories, 
the wrong done to the valiant king Horuendile, let 
him not be mooued, nor thinke it strange to behold 
the confused, hydeous and fearefull spectacle of this 
present calamitie : if there be any man that affecteth 
fidelitie, and alloweth of the loue and dutie that 
man is bounde to shewe his parents, and find it a 
iust cause to call to remembrance the iniuryes and 
wrongs that have been done to our progenitors, let 
him not bee ashamed beholding this massacre, much 
less offended to see so fearefull a mine both of men 
and of the brauest house in all this countrey : for 
the hand that hath done this iustice, could not 
effect it by any other meanes, neither yet was it law- 
full for him to doe it otherwise, then by ruinating 
both sensible and vnsensible things, thereby to pre- 
serue the memorie of so iust a vengeance. 

I see well (my good friends) & am very glad to 
know so good attention and deuotion in you, that 
you are sorrie (before your eyes) to see Fengon so 
murthered, and without a head, which heeretofore 
you acknowledged for your Commander: but I pray 
you remember, this body is not the body of a king, 
but of an execrable tyrant, and a parricide most de- 
testable. Oh Danes, the spectacle was much more 
hydeous, when Horuendile your king was mur- 
thered by his brother, What should I say a brother? 
nay rather, by the most abhominable executioner 
that euer beheld the same. It was you that saw 
Horuendiles members massacred, and that with 
teares and lamentations accompanied him to the 
graue : his body disfigured, hurt in a thousand 
places, & misused in ten times as many fashions ; 



PRINCE OF DENMARKE. 321 

and who doubteth (seeing experience hath taught 
you) that the Tyrant (in massacring your lawfull 
king) sought onely to infringe the auncient Liberties 
of the common people? and it was one hand onely, 
that murthering Horuendile, cruelly dispoyled him 
of life, and by the same meanes uniustly bereaued 
you of your auncient liberties, & delighted more in 
oppression then to embrace the plesant countenance 
of prosperous libertie, without aduenturing for the 
same ? And what mad man is he, that delighteth 
more in the tyrrany of Fengon, then in the clemen- 
cie and renewed courtesie of Horuendile? If it bee 
so, that by clemencie and affabilitie, the hardest 
and stoutest hearts are molified and made tractable, 
and that euill and hard vsage causeth subiects to be 
outrageous and vnruly: why behold you not the 
debonair cariage of the first, to compare it w* the 
cruelties & insolencies of the second, in euery 
respect as cruell & barbarous, as his brother was 
gentle, meeke and courteous. Remember, O you 
Danes remember, what loue and amitie Horuendile 
shewed vnto you, with what equitie and iustice he 
swayed the great affaires of this kingdome, and with 
what humanitie and courtisie he defended & cher- 
ished you, and then I am assured that the simplest 
man among you will both remember and acknowl- 
edge, that he had a most peaceable, iust, & right- 
eous king taken from him, to place in his throane a 
tyrant and murtherer of his brother: one that hath 
peruerted all right, abolished the auncient Lawes of 
our fathers, contaminated the memories of our an- 
cestors, & by his wickednesse polluted the integritie 
of this kingdome, vpon the necke thereof hauing 
placed the troublesome yoak of heauie seruitude, 
abolishing that libertie wherein Horuendile vsed to 
maintaine you, and sufTred you to Hue at your ease, 
and should you now bee sorrie to see the ende of 
your mischiefes, & that this miserable wretch, 



322 THE HYSTORIE OF HAMBLET, 

pressed downe with the burthen of his offences, at 
this present payeth the vsury of the parricide com- 
mitted vpori the body of his brother, & would not 
himselfe be the reuenger of the outrage done to me, 
whom he sought to depriue of mine inheritance, 
taking from Denmark a lawfull successor, to plant a 
wicked stranger, & bring into captiuitie those that 
my father had infranchised, and deliuered out of 
misery and bondage? And what man is he that 
hauing any sparke of wisdom, would esteem a good 
deed to be an iniury, & account pleasures equal 
with wrongs & euident outrages? It were then 
great folly & temerity in Princes & valiant com- 
manders in the wars, to expose themselues to peril 
& hazards of their Hues, for the welfare of the com- 
mon people, if y fc for a recompence they should reape 
hatred and indignation of the multitude, to what 
end should Hother haue punished Balder, if in steed 
of recompence, the Danes and Swethlanders had 
banished him to receiue and accept the successors 
of him that desired nought but his ruine and over- 
throwe? What is hee that hath so small feeling of 
reason & equitie, that would be grieued to see trea- 
son rewarded with the like, and that an euill act is 
punished with iust demerit, in the partie himselfe 
that was the occasion : who was euer sorrowfull to 
behold the murtherer of innocents brought to his 
end : of what man weepeth to see a iust massacre 
done vpon a Tyrant, vsurper, villaine and bloody 
personage? 

I perceiue you are attentiue, & abashed for not 
knowing the author of your deliuerance, and sorry 
that you cannot tell to whom you should bee 
thankefull for such & so great a benefit as the 
destruction of a tyrant, and the ouerthrow of the 
place, that was the storehouse of his villanies, and 
the true receptacle of all the theeues and traytors 
in this kingdome: but beholde (here in your 



PRINCE OF DENMARKE. 3 2 3 

presence) him that brought so good an enterprise 
to effect. It is I (my good friends) it is I that 
confesse I haue taken vengeance, for the violence 
done vnto my lord & father, and for the subiection 
and seruitude that I perceiued in this Countrey, 
whereof I am the iust and lawfull successor. It is I 
alone, that haue done this piece of worke, whereunto 
you ought to haue lent me your handes, and therein 
haue ayded and assisted me, I haue only accom- 
plished that, which all of you might iustly haue 
effected, by good reason, without falling into any 
point of treason or fellonie : it is true that I hope 
so much of your good willes, towards the deceased 
king Horuendile, & that the remembrances of his 
vertues is yet so fresh within your memories, that if 
I had required your aide herein, you would not haue 
denied it, specially to your naturall prince. But it 
liked mee best to doe it my selfe alone, thinking it 
a good thing to punish the wicked, without hazard- 
ing the Hues of my friends and loyall subiects, not 
desiring to burthen other mens shoulders, with this 
weight, for that I made account to effect it well 
inough without exposing any man into danger, & 
by publishing the same should cleane haue ouer- . 
throwne the deuice, which at this present I haue so 
happily brought to passe. I haue burnt the bodyes 
of the courtiers to ashes, being companions in the 
mischiefs and treasons of the tyrant, but I haue left 
Fengon whole, that you might punish his dead car- 
kasse (seeing that when hee liued you durst not lay 
hands vpon him) to accomplish the full punishment 
and vengeance due vnto him, and so satisfie your 
choller vpon the bones of him, that filled his greedy 
hands and coffers with your riches, and shed the 
blood of your brethren and friends. Bee ioyfull 
then (my good friends) make ready the nose-gay for 
this vsurping King, burne his abhominable body, 
boyle his lasciuious members, and cast the ashes of 



3 2 4 THE HISTORIE OF HAMBLET, 

him that hath beene hurtfull to all the world into 
the ayre ; dnue from you the sparkes of pitie to 
the end that neither siluer, nor christall cup nor 
sacred tombe may be the restfull habitation o[ the 
reliques & bones of so detestable a man : let not one 
trace of a parricide be seene, nor your countrey de- 
filed with the presence of the least member of this 
tyrant without pity, that your neighbors may not 
smell the contagion, nor our land the polluted in- 
fection of a body condemned for his wickednes- I 
haue done my part, to present him to you in this 
sort, now it belongs to you to make an ende of the 
worke, & put to the last hand of dutie, whereunto 
your seuerall functions call you, for in this sort you 
must honor abhominable princes : and such ought 
to be the funerall of a tyrant, parricide, and vsurper 
both of the bed & patrimony, that no way belonged 
vnto him, who hauing bereaued his countrey of lib- 
erty, it is fit that the land refuse to giue him a place 
for the eternal rest of his bones. 

O my good friends seeing you know the wrong 
that hath bin done vnto mee, what my griefs are & 
in what misery I haue liued since the death of the 
king, my Lord & father, and seeing that you haue 
both known and tasted these things then, when as I 
could not conceiue the outrage that I felt: what 
neede I recite it vnto you ? what benefit would it be 
to discouer it before them, that knowing it, would 
burst (as it were with despight) to heare of my hard 
chance, and curse Fortune for so much imbasing a 
royall prince, as to depriue him of his maiesty, 
although not any of you durst so much as shew one 
sight of sorrow or sadnes ? You know how my father 
in law conspired my death, & sought by diuers 
meanes to take away my life, how I was forsaken of 
the Q. my mother, mocked of my friends, and dis- 
pised of mine own subiects, hetherto I haue liued 
laden with griefe, and wholy confounded in teares 



PRINCE OF DENMARKE. 325 

my life still accompanied with fear and suspition, 
expecting the houre when the sharp sword would 
make an ende of my life and miserable anguishes, 
how many times counterfeiting y e mad man, haue I 
heard you pitty my distresse, & secretly lament to 
see mee disinherited, and yet no man sought to re- 
uenge the death of my father, nor to punish the 
treason of my incestuous vncle, full of murthers & 
massacres ? This charitie ministred comfort, and your 
affectionate complaints made me euidently see your 
good wills, that you had in memorie the calamity of 
your prince, & within your harts ingrauen the desire 
of vengeance for the death of him that deserued a 
long life : & what heart can bee so hard & vntracta- 
ble, or spirit so seuere, cruel and rigorous, that would 
not relent at the remembrance of my extremities, 
and take pitty of an Orphan child, so abandoned of 
the world ? What eyes were so voyd of moysture, 
but would distill a field [flood] of tears, to see a 
poore Prince assaulted by his ownesubiects, betrayed 
by his mother, pursued by his vncle, & so much op- 
pressed, that his friends durst not shew the effects 
of their charitie and good affection ? O (my good 
friends) shew pity to him whom you haue nourished, 
and let your harts take some compassion vpon the 
memory of my misfortunes : I speak to you that 
are innocent of al treason, & neuer defiled your 
hands spirits nor desires with the blud of the greate 
& vertuous king Horuendile. Take pity vpon the 
queen some time your soueraign lady, & my right 
honorable mother, forced by the tyrant, and reioyce 
to see the end & extinguishing of the object of her 
dishonor, which constrained her to be lesse pitiful 
to her own blood so far as to imbrace the murtherer 
of her own dear spouse, charging her selfe with a 
double burthen of infamy & incest, together w* in- 
iuring and disanulling of her house, & the ruine of 
her race. This hath bin y e the occasion y* made 



326 THE HYSTORIE OF HAMBLET, 

me counterfet folly, & couer my intents vnder a 
vaile of meer madnes, which hath wisdom and pol- 
licy thereby to inclose the fruit of this vengeance 
which y* it hath attained to the ful point of efficacy 
& perfect accomplishment you your selues shall bee 
iudges, for touching this & other things concerning 
my profit, & the .managing of great affaires, I refer 
my self to your counsels, & therunto am fully deter- 
mined to yeeld, as being those y* trample vnder 
your feet the murtherers of my father, & despise the 
ashes of him that hath polluted and violated the 
spouse of his brother, by him massacred, y* hath 
committed felony against his Lord, traiterously as- 
sailed the majesty of his king & odiously thralled 
his contry vnder seruitude and bondage, & you his 
loyall subiects from whom he bereauing your liberty, 
feared not to ad incest to parricide, detestable to al 
the world, to you also it belongeth by dewty & rea- 
son _ commonly to defend & protect Hamlet the 
minister, and executor of iust vengeance who being 
iealous of your honour & reputation, hath hazarded 
himself, hoping you will seme him for fathers, de- 
fenders, & tutors, & regarding him in pity, restore 
him to his goods and inheritances, It is I y* haue 
taken away the infamy of my contry, and extin- 
guished the fire y* imbraced your fortunes, I haue 
washed the spots y t defiled the reputation of the 
queen, ouerthrowing both the tirant & the tiranny 
and beguiling the subtilities of the craftiest deceiu- 
er in the world, and by that meanes brought his 
wickednes and impostures to an end ; I was grieued 
at the iniurie committed both to my father, & my 
natiue country, and haue slaine him that vsed more 
rigorus commandements ouer you, then was either 
iust or conuenient to be used vnto men that haue 
commaunded the valiantest nations in the world. 
Seeing then he was such a one to you, it is reason, 
that you acknowledge the benefit & thinke wel of 



• PRINCE OF DENMARKE. Z 2 1 

for the good I had done your posterity, & admiring 
my spirit & wisdome, chuse me your king, if you 
think me worthy of the place, you see I am the au- 
thor of your preservation, heire of my fathers king- 
dome, not straying in any point from his vertuous 
action, no murtherer, violent parricide, nor man y* 
euer offended any of you but only the vitious, I am 
lawfull successor in the kingdome, and iust reuenger 
of a crime aboue al others most grieuous & punish- 
able : it is to me, that you owe the benefit of your 
liberty receaued, and of the subuersion of that ty- 
ranny y* so much afflicted you : that hath troden 
vnder feete the yoke of the tirant, and ouerwhelmed 
his throne, and taken y e scepter out of the hands, 
of him that abused a holy and iust authoritie, but it 
is you y* are to recompence those y* haue well de- 
serued, you know what is the reward of so greate 
desert, & being in your hands to distribute the same, 
it is of you, that I demand the price of my vertue 
and the recompence of my victory. 

This oration of the yong prince so mooued the 
harts of the Danes, and wan the affections of the 
nobility, that some wept for pity other for ioy, to 
see the wisedome and gallant spirit of Hamlet, and 
hauing made an end of their sorrow, al with one con- 
sent proclaimed him king of Jntie and Chersonnese, Hamlet 
at this present the proper country of Denmarke, and j£ n r f ° f D °"! 
having celebrated his coronation, and receiued the mark - 
homages and fidelities of his subjects, he went into 
England to fetch his wife, and reioyced with his 
father in law, touching his good fortune, but it 
wanted little that the king of England had not ac- 
complished that which Fengon with all his subtil- 
ities could neuer attaine. 



328 THE HYS1 ORIE OF HA MBLE T, 



CHAPTER VII. 

How Hamlet after his coronation went into England, 
and how the king of England secretly would hane 
put him to death, and how he slew the king of 
England : a7id returned againe into Denmarke 
with two wines, and what followed. 

HAMLET being in England shewed the King what 
meanes hee had wrought to recouer his kingdom, 
but when the king of England vnderstood of Fen- 
gons death, he was both abashed and confused in his 
minde, at that instant feeling himselfe assailed with 
two great passions, for that in times past, he and 
Fengon hairing bin companions together in armes, 
had giuen each other their faith & promises, by oath, 
that if either of them chanced to bee slaine by any 
man whatsoeuer, hee that suruiued (taking the quar- 
rel vpon him as his owne) should neuer cease till he 
were reuenged or at the leaste do his endeauour. 
This promise incited the barbarous king to massacre 
Hamlet, but the alliance, presenting it selfe before, 
his eies, and beholding the one deade although his 
friend, and the other aliue, and husband to his daugh- 
ter, made him deface * his desire of reuenge. But 
in the end the conscience of his oath and promise 
obtained the vpper hand, and secretly made him 
conclude the death of his sonne in law, which 
enterprise after that was cause of his own death 
and ouerrunning of the whole country of England 
by the cruelty and despight conceiued by the 
King of Denmarke. I haue purposely omitted 
the discourse of that battaile, as not much per- 
tinent to our matter, as also, not to trouble you 
with too tedious a discourse, being content to shew 
you the end of this wise & valiant king Hamlet, who 

1 [ Mr. Collier proposed to read defer.] 



PRINCE OF DENMARKE. 329 

reuenging himselfe vpon so many enemies, & discou- 
ering all the treasons practised against his life, in 
the end serued for a sport to fortune, & an example 
to all great personages, that trust ouermuch to the 
felicities of this world, y* are of small moment, & 
lesse continuance. 

The king of England perceiuing that hee could 
not easilie effect his desire vpon the king his son in 
lawe, as also not being willing to break the laws, & 
rights of Hospitality, determined to make a stranger 
the reuenger of his iniury, & so accomplish his oath 
made to Fengon without defiling his handes w* the 
blood of the husband of his daughter, & polluting 
his house by the traiterous massacring of his friend. 
In reading of this history it seemeth Hamlet should 
resemble an other Hercules, sent into diuers places 
of the world, by Euristheus (solicited by Iuno) 
where he knew any dangerous aduenture, thereby to 
ouerthrow & destroy him, or else Bellerophon sent 
to Ariobatus to put him to death, or (leaving pro- 
phane histories,) an other Vrias by King Dauid ap- 
pointed to bee placed in the fore front of the bat- 
taile, and the man that should bee first slain by the 
Barbarians. For the King of Englands wife being 
dead not long before, (although he cared not for 
marrying an other woman) desired his sonne in lawe 
to make a voyage for him into Scotland, flattering 
him in such sort, that he made him beleeue that his 
singular wisdome caused him to preferre him to that 
ambassage, assuring himselfe that it were impossible 
that Hamlet the subtillest & wisest prince in the 
worlde should take anything in the world in hand 
without effecting the same. 

Now the queen of Scots beeing a maid and of a 
haughty courage, despised marriage with al men, as 
not esteeming any worthy to be her companion, in 
such manner that by reason of this arrogant opinion 
there neuer came any man to desire her loue but she 



33° THE HYSTORIE OF HAMBLET, 

caused him to loose his life: but the Danish Kin^s 
fortune was so good that Hermetrude (for so was the 
queens name,) hearing that Hamlet was come thither 
to mtreat a marriage between her and the king of 
England, forgot all her pride, & dispoiling herselfe of 
her sterne nature, being as then determined to make 
him (being the greatest prince as then lining 
her husband, & deprive the English princesse of her 
spouse whome shee thought fit for no men ' but 
herself, & so this Amazon without loue disdaining 
Cupid, by her free wil submitted her haughtie mind 
to her concupiscence. The Dane arriving in her 
court, desired she to see the old king of Englands 
letters & mocking at his fond appetites, whose blood 
as then was half congealed, cast her eies vpon the 
yong and plesant Adonis of the North, esteeming 
her selfe happy to haue such a pray fall into her 
hands wherof she made her ful account to haue the 
possession, & to conclude she y* neuerhad been ouer- 
come by the grace, courtesie, valor or riches of anie 
prince nor Lord whatsoeuer, was as then vanquished 
w the onehe report of the subtilties of the Dane 
who knowing that he was already fianced to the 
daughter of the king of England, spake vnto him & 
said, I neuer looked for so great a blisse, neither 
from the Gods, nor yet from fortune, as to behold in 
my countries, the most compleate prince in the 
north, & he that hath made himselfe famous & 
renowned through all the nations of the world, as 
well neighbours as strangers, for the only respect' of 
his vertue wisdom & good fortune, seruing him much 
iu the pursuite & effect of diuers thinges by him 
vndertaken, & thinke my selfe much beholding to 
the king of England (although his malice seeketh 
neither my aduancement nor the good of you my 

1 [So the old copy ; perhaps, as suggested by Mr. Collier, we 
should read one.] 



PRINCE OF DENMARKE. 331 

Lord) to do me so much honor as to send me so 
excellent a man to intreate of a marriage (he being 
olde & a mortal enemy to me and mine) with mee 
that am such a one as euery man seeth, is not 
desirous to couple with a man of so base quality 
as he, whom you haue said to be y e son of a 
slave, but on the other side I maruel y* the son 
of Horuendile, and grand-child to king Roderick, 
he that by his foolish wisedom, & fained madnesse 
surmounted the forces & subtilties of Fengon, & 
obtained the kingdom of his aduersary, should so 
much imbase himself, (hauing otherwise bin very 
wise and wel aduised, in all his actions) touching his 
bed-fellow, & hee that for his excellency and valor 
surpasseth humane capacity, should stoope so lowe 
as to take to wife her that issuing from a seruile 
race, hath only the name of a king for her father, 
for that the basenes of her blood, will alwaies cause 
her to shewe what are the vertues & noble qualities 
of hir ancestors : and you my Lord said she, are 
you so ignorant as not to know that mariage should 
not bee measured by any foolish opinion, of an out- 
ward beautie, but rather by vertues and antiquitie 
of race, which maketh the wife to be honored for 
her prudence, and neuer degenerating from the 
integritie of his ancestors: exterior beawty also is 
nothing where perfection of y e mind doth not 
accomplish, & adorn that which is outwardly seen 
to be in the bodie, and is lost by an accident, & 
occurrence of small moment: as also such toyes 
haue deceiued many men, & drawing them like 
inticing baits, haue cast them headlong into the gulf 
of their ruine, dishonor, and vtter ouerthrow, it was 
I to whom this advantage belonged being a queen, 
& such a one, as for nobility may compare my selfe 
with the greatest princes in Europe, being nothing 
inferiour vnto any of them neither for antiquitie of 
blood, nobilitie of parents, nor abundance of riches, 



33 2 THE HYSTORIE OF HA MB LET, 

& am not only a Queene, but such a one, as that 
receiuing whom I will for my companion in bed, can 
make him beare the title of a king, & with my body 
giue him possession of a great kingdome, & goodly 
prouince, think then my Lord how much I account 
of your alliance, who being accustomed with the 
sword to pursue such as durst imbolden themselues 
to win my love, it is to you only to whom I make a 
present ,both of my kisses, imbracings scepter, & 
crown : what man is he if he be not made of stone, 
would refuse so pretious a pawn as Hermetrude with 
y e kingdome of Scotland ? accept sweete king, 
accepte this Queene, who w* so great loue & amitie, 
desireth your so great profit, & can giue you more 
contentment in one day then the princesse of 
England wold yeeld you pleasure during hir life, & 
although shee surpasse me in beawty, her bloud 
beeing base it is fitter for such a king as you are to 
chuse Hermetrude, less beautiful but noble & famous, 
rather then the English Lady with great beawtie, 
but issuing from an vnknown race, without any title 
of honor: now think if the Dane hearing such forci- 
ble resons & vnderstanding y* by her which he half 
doubted as also moued w* choller for the treason of 
his father in law, y* purposely sent him thether to 
loose his life, & being welcomed, kist, and playd 
withal by this queen, yong, & reasonable faire, if he 
were not easie enough to be conuerted, & like to 
forget the affection of his first wife, w* this to enioy 
the realme of Scotland, & so open the waie to 
become king of all greate Britain, y* to conclude he 
marryed her & led her with him to the king of 
Englands, court which moued the king from that 
time forward much more to seek the meanes, to 
bereaue him of his life, & had surely done it, if his 
daughter, Hamlets other wife, more careful of him 
y fc had reiected her then of her fathers welfare, had 
not discovered the enterprise to Hamlet saying, I 






PRINCE OF DENMARKE. S3 3 

know well my Lord, y fc the alurements & perswasions 
of a bold & altogether shameles woman, being more 
lasciuious then the chast imbracements of a lawful 
and modest wife, are of more force to intice and 
charm the sences of yong men : but for my part I 
cannot take this abuse, for satisfaction to leaue mee 
in this sorte, without all cause reason or precedent 
faulte once knowne in mee your loyall spouse, & take 
more pleasure in the aliance of her who one day will 
be the cause of your ruine, and ouerthrow, and 
although a iust cause of iealousye and reasonable 
motion of anger, dispence with mee at this time, to 
make no more account of you then you do of me, 
that am not worthy to be so scornfully reiected, yet 
matrimoniall charitie shal haue more force & vigour 
in my hart, then the disdaine which I haue iustly 
conceiued to see a concubine hold my place and a 
strange woman before my face inioy the pleasures 
of my husband. This iniury my Lord although 
great & offensiue which to reuenge diuers Ladies of 
great renown haue in times past sought & procured 
the death of their husbands, cannot so much restrain 
my good wil, but that [I] may not chuse but aduer- 
tise you what treason is deuised against you, 
beseeching you to stand vpon your guard for that 
my fathers onely seeking is to bereaue you of your 
life, which if it happen, I shall not long Hue after 
you. Manie reasons induse me to loue and cherish 
you, and those of great consequence, but specially 
and aboue all the rest, I am and must bee carefull 
of you, when I feele your child stirring in my 
wombe ; for which respecte, without so much for- 
getting yourself, you ought to make more account 
of me then of your concubine : whome I will loue 
because you loue her, contenting my selfe that your 
sonne hateth her, in regard to the wrong she doth 
to his mother: for it is impossible that any passion 
or trouble of the mind whatsoeuer can quench those 



334 THE HYSTORIE OF HA MB LET, 

fierce passions of loue, that made me yours, neither 
that I shold forget your fauours past, when loyallie 
you sought the loue of the daughter of the king of 
England, neither is it in the power of that thiefe 
that hath stoln your heart, nor my fathers choller, 
to hinder me, from seeking to preserue you from the 
cruelty of your dissembling friend (as heertofore by 
counterfeiting the madman, you preuented the 
practises, & treasons of your Uncle Fengon) the 
complot being determined to be executed vpon you 
& yours, without this aduertisement, the Dane had 
surely been slain, & the Scots y* came with him for 
the King of England inuiting his son in Law to a 
banquet w* the greatest curtesies y* a friend can 
vse to him whom he loued as himself, had the 
means to intrap him, and cause him dance a pittiful 
galliard, in that sort ; to celebrate the marriage 
betweene him and his new lady. But Hamlet went 
thither with armor vnder his clothes, & his men in 
like sort, by which means, he and his escaped with 
little hurt, and so after that hapned the battaile 
before spoken of, wherein the king of England los- 
ing his life, his countrie was the third time sacked 
by the barbarians of the ilands, & countrie of 
Denmark. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

Hoiv Hamblet being in Denmarke, was assailed by 
Wiglerns his vncle, and after betrayed by his last 
wife, called Hermetrnde, and zvas slaine : after 
whose death she married his enemie, Wiglerns. 

HAMLET having obtained the victory against the king 
of England, and slaine him, laden with great treasures 
and accompanied with his two wiues, set forward to 
saile into Denmarke, but by the way hee had intelli- 



PRINCE OF DENMARKE. 335 

gence, that Wiglere his vncle, and sonne to Rodericke, 
hairing taken the royall treasure from his sister Geruth 
(mother to Hamblet) had also seazed vpon the king- 
dome : saying, that neither Horuendile nor any of his 
helde it but by permission, and that it was in him (to 
whom the property belonged) to giue the charge ther- 
of to whom he would. But Hamblet not desirous to 
have any quarrel with the sonne of him, from whom 
his Predecessors had receiued their greatnes and ad- 
uancement, gaue such and so rich presents to Wig- 
lere, that he being contented withdrew himselfe out 
of the countrey & territories of Geruths sonne. But 
within certaine time after, Wiglere, desirous to 
keepe all the countrey in subiection, intyced by the 
conquest of Scanie, and Sialandie, and also that 
Hermetrude (the wife of Hamlet, whom he loued Hermetmdc 
more than himselfe) had secret intelligence with him HlSfher 
and had promised him marriage, so he would take husband - 
her out of the handes of him that held her, sent to 
defie Hamlet, and proclaimed open warre against 
him. Hamlet like a good and wise prince, louing 
especially the welfare of his subiects, sought by all 
meanes to auoide that warre, but againe refusing it, 
he perceiued a great spot and blemish in his honor, 
and accepting the same, hee knewe it would bee the 
ende of his dayes : by the desire of preseruing his 
life on the one side, & his honor on the other side 
pricking him forward ; but at the last remembring 
that neuer any danger whatsoeuer had once shaken 
his vertues and constancy, chose rather the necessitie 
of his mine, then to loose the immortall fame that 
valiant and honourable men obtained in the warres ; 
and there is as much difference betweene a life with- 
out honour and an honourable death, as glory & 
renowne is more excellent then dishonour and euiil 
report. 

But the thing that spoyled this vertuous Prince, 
was the ouer great trust & confidence hee had in his 



33 6 THE HYSTORIE OF HAMBLET, 

wife Hermetrude, and the vehement loue hee bare 
vnto her, not once repenting the wrong in that case 
done to his lawfu-11 spouse, and for the which (parad- 
uenture that misfortune had neuer hapned vnto 
him, and it would neuer haue bin thought, that she 
whom he loued aboue all things, would haue so vil- 
lainously betrayed him), hee not once remembring 
his first wiues speeches, who prophesied vnto him, 
that the pleasures hee seemed to take in his other 
wife, would in the end be the cause of his over- 
throvve, as they had rauished him of the best part of 
his sences, & quenched in him the great prudence 
that made him admirable in all the countries in the 
ocean seas, and through all Germany, now the great- 
est grief, that this king (besotted on his wife) had, 
was the separation of her whom he adored, and, 
assuring himselfe of his ouerthrowe, was desirous, 
either that shee might beare him company at his 
death, or els to find her a husband that should 
loue her (he beeing dead) as well as euer hee did : but 
the disloyall queene, had already prouided her selfe 
of a marriage, to put her husband out of trouble and 
care for that : who perceiuing him to be sad for her 
sake, when shee should haue absented her selfe from 
him, she to blind him the more, and to incourage 
him to set forward to his ovvne destruction, prom- 
ised to follow him whether soeuer he went, & to 
take the like fortune that befell to him, were it good 
or euil, and that so she would giue him cause to 
know, how much shee surpassed the English woman 
in her affection towardes him, saying, that woman is 
accursed that feareth to follow and accompany her 
husband to the death : so that to heare her speake, 
men would haue sayd that shee had beene the wife 
of Mithridates, or Zenobia queene of Palmira, shee 
made so greate a show of loue and constancy : But 
by the effect it was after easily perceiued, how vaine 
the promise of this vnconstant and wauering Prin- 



slaine. 



PRINCE OF DENMARKE. 337 

cesse was : and howe vncomparable the life of this 
Scottish Queene was to the vigor of her chastitie, 
being a mayd before she was married. For that 
Hamlet had no sooner entred into the field, but she 
found meanes to see Wiglere, and the battel begun, 
wherein the miserable Danish Prince was slaine : Hamlet 
but Hermetrude presently yeelded her self, with 
all her dead husbands treasons, into the hand of the 
Tyrant : who more then content with that metamor- 
phosis so much desired, gaue order that presently 
the marriage (bought with the blood and treasor of 
the sonne of Horuendile) should bee celebrated. 

Thus you see, that there is no promise or deter- 
mination of a woman, but that a very small discom- 
moditie of Fortune mollifieth and altereth the same, 
and which time doeth not peruert ; so that the mis- 
fortunes subject to a constant man shake and over- 
thrown the naturall slipperie loyaltie of the vari- 
able steppes of women, wholy without any ' faith- 
full assurance of loue, or true vnfained constancy: 
for as a woman is readie to promise so isshee heauy 
and slowe to performe, and effect that which she 
hath promised, as she that is without end or limit in 
her desires, flattring her selfe in the diuersitie of her 
wanton delights, and taking pleasure in diuersitie 
and change of nevve things, which as soone shee doth 
forget and growe weary off: and to conclude, such 
shee is in all her actions, she is rash, couetous, and 
vnthankefull, whatsoeuer good or seruice bee done 
vnto her. But nowe I perceiue I erre in my dis- 
course, vomiting such things vnworthy of this sects, 
but the vices of Hermetrude haue made mee say 
more then I meant to speake, as also the Authour, 
from whence I take this Hystorie, hath almost made 
mee hold his course, I finde so great a sweetnesse 
and liuelinessein this kinde of Argument: and the 

1 [Old copy reads, a,7id any.] 



33 8 THE HYSTORIE OF HA MB LET, 

rather because it seemeth so much the truer, con- 
sidering the miserable successe of poore king Ham- 
let. 

Such was the ende of Hamlet, sonne to Horuen- 
dile, Prince of Jutie: to whom if his Fortune had 
been equall with his inward and naturall giftes, I 
know not which of the auncient Grecians and Rom- 
ans had beene able to haue compared with him for 
vertue and excellencie : but hard fortune following 
him in all his actions, and yet hee vanquishing the 
malice of his time, with the vigour of constancy, 
hath left vs a notable example of haughtie courage, 
worthy of a great Prince, arming himselfe with hope 
in things that were wholy without any colour or 
shewe thereof, and in all his honorable actions 
made himselfe worthy of perpetuall memorie, if one 
onely spotte had not blemished and darkened a good 
part of his prayses. For that the greatest victorie, 
that a man can obtain is to make himselfe victor- 
ious, and lord ouer his owne affections, and that re- 
strained the vnbridled desires of his concupiscence : 
for if a man be neuer so princely, valiant, and wise, if 
the desires and inticements of his flesh preuaile, and 
have the vpper hand, he will imbase his credite, and 
gasing after strange beauties become a foole, and (as 
it were) incensed, dote on the presence of women. 
This fault was in the great Hercules, Sampson, and 
the wisest man that euer liued vpon the earth follow- 
ing this traine, therein impaired his wit, and the 
most noble, wise, valiant and discreet personages of 
our time, following the same course haue left va 
many notable examples of their worthy and notable 
vertues. 

But I beseech you that shall reade this Hystorie, 
not to resemble the Spider, that feedeth of the cor- 
ruption that shee findeth in the flowers and fruites 
that are in the Gardens, whereas the Bee gathereth 
her hony, out of the best and fayrest flower shee can 



PRINCE OF DENMARK'S. 339 

/inde : for a man that is well brought vp should 
reade the Hues of whoremongers, drunkards, inces- 
tuous, violent and bloody persons, not to follow 
their steps, and so to defile himselfe with such vn- 
deannesse, but to shunne paliardize, abstain the 
superfluities and drunkennesse in banquets, and fol- 
low the modestie, courtesie, and continencie that 
recommendeth Hamlet, in this discourse, who while 
other made good cheare, continued sober, and where 
all men sought as much as they could, to gather 
together riches and treasure, hee simply accounting 
riches nothing comparable to honor, sought to 
gather a multitude of vertues, that might make him 
equall to those that by them were esteemed as Gods, 
hauing not as then receiued the lighte of the Gos- 
pell, that men might see among the Barbarians, and 
them that were farre from the knowledge of one 
onelye God, that nature was.prouoked to follow that 
which is good and those forward to imbrace vertue 
for that there was neuer any nation how rude or 
barbarous soever that tooke not some pleasure to do 
that which seemed good, therby to win praise, and 
commendations, which wee haue said to be the re- 
ward of vertue, and good life, I delight to speak of 
these strange histories, and of people that were vn- 
christned, that the vertue of the rude people maie 
giue more splendor, to our nation who seeing them 
so compleat, 1 wise, prudent, and well aduised in 
their actions, might striue not only to follow (imita- 
tion being a small matter) but to surmount them as 
our religion surpasseth their superstition, and our 
age more purged subtill, and gallant, then the season 
wherin they liued and made their vertues knowne. 

1 [The last lines from " compleat " to the end taper after the 
manner of books of the time.] 

FINIS. 






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A WORLD LEADER IN COLLECTIONS PRESERVATIO 

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Cranberry Township. PA ifiDfifi 



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